


Sugar Sugar

by writeanddontstop



Category: Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fingering, Sex, Sugar Baby, Sugar Daddy, blowjob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeanddontstop/pseuds/writeanddontstop
Summary: There is one thing 22 year old Rebecca “Becky” Kim doesn’t have enough of: money. When she is nearing rock bottom, she decides to take her friends’ advice and try out this ‘sugar daddy, sugar baby’ thing. Becky signs up on the famous website Sugar Sugar, hoping to find herself someone who can financially support her to achieve her dreams. She meets successful CEO of tech company Midnight, Henry Cavill, who might be a little bit more than someone she’s just in business with.
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Asian Original Female Character(s), Henry Cavill/Becky Kim, Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	1. September

**Author's Note:**

> For Sugar Sugar I chose a different type of format. Instead of chapter numbers, every month is a chapter (does that make any sense at all?). So this Chapter is September :))

##  _23rd September 2 p.m._

‘No, I’m serious you guys. I can’t do this anymore. I quit.’ I lean back in my seat, bringing the straw in my vanilla milkshake to my lips. Before I take a sip, I add: ‘It’s so humiliating, totally not worth it.’

One of my best friends Genevieve wipes away the tears from her flushed cheeks and Viola is nearly choking on her laughs. I hate that my terrible dates makes them cry with laughter, while I’m crumbling inside with shame. ‘Come on,’ Genevieve says, ‘it’s not that bad.’

‘Gen, you weren’t there, it was awful.’ I shiver thinking about the two dates I had. ‘They were so disappointing in real life, almost like I spoke to their much more charming friend when we were chatting. I feel so betrayed, borderline violated. First, I had to wait for thirty to forty five minutes for them. They didn’t even let me know they were gonna be late. I swear, you had to see the look on everyone’s face in the restaurant. Full of pity when they saw me waiting. The second, however, the old man arrived, those pitiful expressions changed for those judging ones I thought only real ass conservatives were able to pull off. Then, their butts barely touched the seat, when they asked me how much I think I was worth during bedroom activities. Like I was some sort of prostitute. I even told them more than once I’m not into that stuff, nor will I engage in that.’

Viola chuckles. ‘Yeah, that’s pretty bad. I have to agree.’

‘I know I need money,’ I continue, ‘but I’m not sure if this is all worth it.’

Viola throws her braids over her shoulder, before leaning over to me, placing her hand on mine. ‘Honey, this is honestly the easiest way for you to make money. You made it pretty clear that you want someone to help you financially and no sex.’

‘You just had a bit of bad luck with your first two dates,’ Genevieve adds. ‘Besides, you have to remember that you don’t have to do this forever. You just need a little start up. As shitty and mean girlish this may sound, you really need the money and you are not qualified for a job that pays well, unless you have some sort of degree.’

‘Yes, Gen, could you say that again? I’d like to feel even more shitty about myself.’

She rolls her light blue eyes. ‘What I’m trying to say is that you maybe just need to be a bit more patient. Go on this date tonight and if it’s just as horrendous as the others, we’ll try and find you a better match. Besides, three time’s a charm, right?’

I do have to admit: she has a point. ‘Who knows tonight I have better luck,’ I say. ‘Also, this guy is the youngest and the best looking.’

‘How old was he again?’ Viola asks.

‘Forty six. He is also the most wealthy of them. I think he has a fortune of at least ten million. His profile staled he is some sort of CEO of a company, I don’t know. He seems okay.’

‘You said that about the others as well,’ Genevieve chuckles, hiding behind her milkshake cup as she laughs with Viola about it.

‘Shut up, please.’

Viola pats my hand. ‘Ignore her,’ she says. ‘Do you know where you’re going to eat tonight?’

I shake my head. ‘No, he lets me know where he made reservations tonight.’

‘Remember, share your location and don’t go with him.’

‘Yes mother,’ I say, nearly rolling my eyes at my friend. ‘You told me that the last two times as well and I know that the only reason you tipped me a hundred dollars is for me to get an Uber.’ I sound awfully ungrateful when I say it like that, so I smile at her and add: ‘Thanks though, I really appreciate it.’

I hate being this much dependable on my friends, but maybe they’re right. Maybe I need a little kickstart. While they are aware of me being in severe debt and that I’m behind on my rent, they still think I’m just nearing rock bottom.

When in reality, I have long passed rock bottom.

‘Becky,’ I hear from behind me and I look over my shoulder, to see my stupid boss Stan behind the register. He looks annoyed, but what else is new? ‘Break’s over.’

‘Yo, be there in a bit,’ I yell back. ‘Thanks girls, for the pep talk. I know you’re busy with your own life.’

Genevieve smiles. ‘Oh honey, for chicken nuggets, I’ll always make time.’

I give them both a hug, before I walk back to stand behind the frying pans. It’s of course not my ultimate dream to work in a fast food restaurant like Retro House, but I don’t have a choice.

As a teen, I’ve been in juvie twice, because I stole some clothes and other things and being disowned by your own furious family not long afterwards, makes starting adult life quite hard. Somehow I managed to get myself this job at Retro House and a sleazy apartment with a landlord breathing down my neck to pay rent.

Sure, it’s okay and I’m very lucky to have this, but I feel like I’m not fulfilling my full potential. I want to go to college and get myself some sort of degree. I want a laptop, so I can finally start writing out those books that have been living its own life in my mind for years. Now I scribble down some things I need to remember, but writing on a phone with a battery who just gives up from time to time, is not ideal.

To make matters even worse, I’m three months behind my rent and I’m really pushing my luck with my landlord and he is running out of patience.

But how does one get money? I can’t open another loan because of my debts, I am too awkward to become an exotic dancer. I even thought about opening an Only Fans account, but quickly realized that that is not something I would be able to pull off gracefully.

Genevieve was the one who suggested to sign up for Sugar Sugar. ‘You can always try it,’ she told me, ‘and you can tell them you don’t want sex, just that you need financial help. If it’s terrible, you just quit and we have something to laugh about.’

Right now, they are the only ones that are enjoying this so far, but maybe they’re right.

It’s just that I’m getting inside my head right now. I don’t know about this. It’s like I’ve reached a new level of desperation if I’m willing to do this. I hate these types of things. First dates, job interviews, negotiating.

And now it’s a mix of all of it.

Secretly I was relieved it didn’t work out with the other two dates, meaning I don’t actually have to become a _sugar baby_.

However, it needs to work out tonight, whether I like it or not. It’s indeed an easy way to make money and maybe Henry is a good guy who can help me out.

‘Becky, less dreaming, more frying,’ Stan says.

I roll my eyes, but since my back is turned to him, thankfully he doesn’t see it. I could kiss my job goodbye if he did. ‘Yes sir.’

✤ ✤ ✤

It’s six in the evening when I finally leave Retro House and arrive at my apartment building. The second I set foot in the hallway, I hear a threatening voice call: ‘Miss Kim.’

Oh no, he is in that kind of mood. ‘I almost have the money, mister Del Rossi,’ I yell, quickly making my way up the stairs.

‘I am getting really frustrated now,’ he yells after me.

I know, I know, I think to myself. I don’t necessarily want to admit it, but mister Del Rossi is totally stressing me out. I am three months behind on my rent and from the looks of it, I’ll be four months behind with the way this month is going. He has been sort of gracious about it, but… He is running out of patience and rightly so. If I were in his shoes, I’d be annoyed by me too.

I hook my phone to my charger and quickly check my screen. I just received a message from Henry. My heart shouldn’t skip a beat, but it does. While the other men were just plain old, this man is still older than me, but he hasn’t stepped foot in a retirement home yet. Also, he looks handsome in the picture he posted on his profile. He, of course, could also be totally cat fishing me, but for the sake of a nice daydream, I’ll just pretend it’s really him.

**Henry:** I made reservations for 7:30 p.m. at La Vue.

Good grief, that means I only have an _hour_ to get myself ready. I rush to the bathroom, because I need to take a shower first in order to get rid of the hamburger, nugget and fries smell I have been carrying with me the entire day. The shower is cold, unfortunately, but that also means I am not showering any longer than necessary.

I blow dry my hair when I’m done and have a towel wrapped around my body. When I’ve done my hair, I put on some moisturizer and some light make-up Genevieve gave me a few weeks ago. Viola even gave me one of her dresses to wear for tonight, one that I know fits me like a glove.

They always offer to buy me stuff, to provide me with a place to stay on their couch, but I cannot accept that. They have boyfriends and a bit more of a stable life than I do and I don’t want to interrupt. Besides, living with other people kinda frightens me, because it brings me back to the days I lived at home.

The days I wasn’t spending my time in juvie and before I got disowned.

Viola’s dress hugs me in all the right places, the dark blue really bringing out the best of my skin and body. I grab a thin blazer and step in my black heels, a pair I have owned for a long time and has been with me to all my pointless job interviews. With an old purse in hand, I lock my apartment door, before tiptoeing down the stairs. I peek around the corner and see that mister Del Rossi is busy watching some old movies.

My phone indicates that my Uber is already waiting for me and when I hear my landlord laughing, thus being distracted enough, I shoot out of the apartment.

Once I’m sitting in the back of the Uber, I grow more and more nervous. I mean, Henry and I of course spoke for a while through chats and his preferences perfectly matched mine (only financial help, some gatherings and spending time with him every now and then and no sex), but that doesn’t make this less nerve wracking.

All the blogs told me not to talk numbers on the first date, but does that even mean not talking about our preferences? The other guys spoke numbers right away and Henry already told me he wants someone to meet, to spoil and to have as a travel companion.

And I would love to be a travel companion and get paid for it.

If this date does not work out, I am quitting the sugar baby lifestyle (or maybe just put it on hold for awhile) and maybe take up my friends’ offer to sleep on their couch for awhile or even Viola’s storage unit.

_I sure hope this date goes well._

The driver stops in front of the restaurant. I quickly give him some money and a tiny tip (goodbye fifty percent of the tip Viola and Genevieve gave me today) and I get out. I take a deep breath, while encouraging thoughts run through my mind. You can do this, Becky. This date will be a success, I guarantee.

When I look at La Vue, I see someone who quite resembles the picture on his Sugar Sugar profile.

Conclusion: Henry is drop dead gorgeous. I could cut myself open on his sharp jawline, his face as beautiful as they describe the Greek mythologies and since he stands underneath the bright lights, I spot some gray streaks in his brown hairs.

It should be illegal to look that gorgeous in a suit. Maybe I won the jackpot here.

His eyes land on me and I so hope I am not disappointing him. His lips form into a smirk and when I get closer, he holds out his hand. ‘Miss Becky,’ he says, pressing a kiss on my knuckles.

You would think I could properly answer to that, but it stays eerily quiet from my side. ‘Hi,’ is the only think I can mutter out.

I look at my phone. I was five minutes early, but from the looks of it, he already was here, waiting for me. This man is already a keeper.

‘I’m glad you could make it. Shall we go inside?’ he asks. He holds out his arm for me to take and I hook my arm through his, my hand resting on his thick underarm. As he is escorting me into the restaurant, my heart is doing multiple somersaults, because this man feels extremely strong.

Once we’re seated, I genuinely feel like I look like a dear whose caught in the headlights. I don’t know what to say. Oh my, I should’ve looked up some small talk conversation topics, but _no_ , I did not do that.

_I curse myself._

‘You’re very beautiful,’ Henry admits.

‘Oh.’ _Please finish that sentence, Becky. Please act like you have basic human interaction skills._ ‘Thank you,’ I say, after I cleared my throat. ‘You’re quite handsome yourself. And I don’t say that because you gave me a compliment. I actually already thought that the second I got out of the Uber. I also thought your profile picture was… Promising. Almost making me think that you were cat fishing me, which you didn’t, of course, because—’ I run my fingers through my long black locks.

What on earth am I doing?

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, ‘I’m just really nervous.’

‘I noticed,’ he chuckles.

Oh great, I am making a fantastic first impression, I’m sure. The waiter hands us our menu’s and I open it, but the letters seem to dance in front of my eyes.

‘Don’t worry, I’m nervous too,’ he admits, breaking the silence between us.

My eyes widen. ‘What?’ I ask. ‘You’re textbook example of composure. How are you nervous?’

‘What I told you before, Becky. This is also my first time doing this.’

‘Oh,’ I say, quickly remembering our conversations. ‘Well, you don’t look nervous. When I’m nervous, I literally start talking and talking and talking and there is no stopping to it or I completely shut down and just stare at the other person and… I think I’m doing the talking thing, right now. I’m so sorry, I just… In comparison to the other two dates I had, you actually look like your profile picture, you act like you were genuinely chatting with me and you’re so handsome, that it makes you look slightly intimidating. I shouldn’t mention my other dates, should I? You know what, I’ll just shut up.’

I’m actually severely out of breath by the time I’m done and I really think I should leave.

‘I’m so sorry.’

Henry shakes his head. ‘Don’t be.’ He smiles. ‘I do the shutting down thing.’

That makes me laugh and feel a bit better about myself. ‘I see.’ I bite my lip, thinking about what I could talk about. What are great small talk conversations?

‘How about we order something?’ he suggests.

I nod. ‘Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,’ I say and thankfully that gives me a few more minutes to think through what I should say to him. However, when I check the menu, I lost my ability to read. ‘What are you going to order?’ I ask him.

‘Think the Pasta with Lamb Ragú,’ he says. ‘How about you?’

I don’t like lamb, so I feel like I shouldn’t just copy what he orders, though that would be the easiest. ‘I think I’ll go for the Custard French Toast.’

He smiles. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Postive.’

‘Want something to drink with that too?’

I nod again. ‘Wine or something.’

He holds up his hand, the ring around his pinky looks expensive, even in this dim lighting and a waiter hurries to our table. Henry orders for the both of us and also a bottle of Pinot Grigio. I push a strand of hair behind my ear, clearing my throat once again. ‘You had to go to work today?’ he asks me.

‘Yeah, I work seven days a week. Retro House.’

‘In Brooklyn?’

‘Yeah, in Brooklyn. If I still smell like hamburgers, I’m terribly sorry.’

He smiles. ‘No, you smell lovely. Don’t you worry.’ He makes himself a bit more comfortable in his chair. ‘I’ve never been there,’ he admits. ‘I heard that the chicken nuggets are very good.’

I throw my hair over my shoulder. ‘That’s because I’m behind that frying pan. Chicken nuggets, fries and milkshakes, those are my specialties.’

_Really, Becky?_ You’re bragging about your abilities in a fast food restaurant?

Henry chuckles. ‘You wrote on your account you wanted to go to college. You know what you want to do?’

I shrug. ‘No, not really. Maybe something with psychology or something. Or more into the arts field. I’m not that intellectually gifted, so… Arts might have to do.’

‘What is your dream job, then?’

I smile. ‘To become a published author,’ I say.

‘What has stopped you now?’

‘I don’t have a laptop,’ I quietly admit. ‘And my place is filled with paper with scribbled down parts and… I mean I could write on my phone, but I have a piece of junk, so I’m afraid I might lose a lot of my hard work if I write on that.’

‘What do you write?’

‘I have these ideas for thrillers and mysteries. I have the biggest weakness for stuff like that.’

He nods. ‘Sounds exciting. So the first thing I need to get you, is a laptop.’

‘Well…’ Talking money is not something you should do on the first date right? Not even the gifts… But he brought it up, meaning that we can discuss it…? ‘Yeah.’

‘Noted,’ he says, leaning back in his chair. Henry’s buff, attractive and the way his tongue runs over his bottom lip, nearly makes me regret that I put in my profile that I don’t want to have a sexual relationship. Shame he wrote down the same, because I’d make an exception for him in a heartbeat.

Thankfully, the waiter places down our orders and pours in the wine for us, giving me an opportunity to regain some thoughts. I cut a piece from my french toast and take a bite. ‘It tastes great,’ I say.

‘Good,’ Henry says, twisting some pasta around his fork. While I said I’m not too big of a fan of lamb, that does look delicious. He chuckles from the other side of the table. ‘Here, try it,’ he says, bring the fork over the table towards my lips. Oh dear, that is so intimate, but also something I totally don’t mind.

I open my mouth and take the bite off the fork. My nose scrunches up. ‘It looks a whole lot better than it tastes,’ I mumble.

Henry tries to bite away a smile, but fails miserably. He takes a bite and says: ‘Maybe you just don’t have taste.’

Is he making fun of me now? I act as if I’m offended, but to be honest, I’m kinda liking the way this interaction goes. ‘Well, maybe you can help me out, fix that slight defect.’

He nods. ‘I’ll take you up on that.’

✤ ✤ ✤

It turns out that Henry is the CEO of tech company Midnight and I would lie if I said I have never drooled while staring at the Midnight building in Manhattan when I was there. The fact he is the founder and CEO of a company like that, only confirms his fortune.

He is very kind and sweet and after a while, it seems like we’ve known each other for a while. It’s like we always talk to each other like that. He is so easy to be around with, though I sometimes feel slightly awkward, but when he smiles at me, he makes me feel very at ease.

After our dinner and dessert, he suggests he walks me to a cab and I actually got a little drowsy, as I’m experiencing a severe case of food coma. I don’t think I have eaten anything this good in awhile.

I have hooked my arm through his, as the two of us walk outside. He hails a cab and he looks so effortlessly handsome as he does so. A driver gets out and opens the back door for me.

‘Brooklyn, right?’ Henry asks me, as he pulls out his wallet.

I nod.

He hands the driver some money (and I looked, it’s two hundred dollars) and says: ‘This’ll take her to Brooklyn, right?’

‘Oh sir,’ the man chuckles, his eyes widening with shock, ‘this’ll take her all the way to Florida.’

As the driver already gets in, to start the car, Henry helps me in the cab. He places one hand on the door, the other on the hood of the car.

‘Thank you,’ I say to him. ‘I really enjoyed tonight.’

‘My pleasure,’ he says with a smile. ‘I can call you, right?’

‘You can,’ I say.

He nods. ‘Text me when you’re home.’

‘Yes, will do.’

He closes the door and I wave at him as the cab drives off. I bite my bottom lip, my heart fluttering like crazy. This was a lovely date, I think to myself.

I’m home half an hour later and the cab driver is thanking me again and again for the amount of money he received from Henry. I quickly go up to my room and see I have a lot of missed texts of my friends, but I ignore them and click on Henry’s name.

**Becky:** I’m home

**Becky:** Thanks again for tonight

**Becky:** I really hope I didn’t disappoint or anything

**Henry:** You did not disappoint at all, Becky. I had a lot of fun as well

**Henry:** I hope you sleep well tonight

**Becky:** Good night, Henry

I receive a notification from my bank account, to tell me someone transferred something to me. I almost never receive a notification of them. I log in on the app and see that Henry transferred five hundred dollars to my bank account, with the description: **To many more dates, Becky.**

##  _24th September 7 a.m._

**Viola:** I still cannot believe this date actually went well!

**Viola:** Not because you’re stupid or boring or anything, but because it almost sounded to good to be true!

**Viola:** It’s a shame I can’t meet with you today, but I’m free the 28th so we’ll go for a picnic!!

**Genevieve:** I don’t have shit to do then, so I’ll be there as well.

**Genevieve:** I have an honest question and you need to answer it.

**Genevieve:** ARE YOU GOING TO CALL THIS MAN DADDY?

**Viola:** OMG GEN!!

**Becky:** SHUT UP!

**Genevieve:** Is that a yes?

**Becky:** No, it’s an absolute no.

##  _28th September 4 p.m._

After a gruesome day spend in the kitchen behind the frying pans, I walk out of Retro House. I barely heard anything from Henry anymore since our date, only a text to tell me he was busy with work, but we’ll arrange something very quickly. I’m still living on cloud nine though. The five hundred I made with this first date, is only a mere preview of what I can expect in the future.

At least, that’s what I think, if I believe what the blogs wrote about this type of experience.

My eyes land on a luxurious Range Rover that does not belong in this part of Brooklyn. Is that Henry, standing there in a checkered suit? Oh no, I look so drab compared to him. Ripped jeans, work shirt and the horrendous cap on my head. I quickly take that thing off. ‘Henry,’ I say, as I run my fingers through my hairs, hoping to tame it a bit, ‘what are you doing here?’

‘I’m buying you a laptop,’ he says, as he opens the door on the passenger side of his vehicle. I understand now, that’s why he wanted to know what time I was off today, to take me shopping. ‘A real author can’t author without a laptop.’

‘You really don’t have to do that,’ I say, as I walk up to the shiny car. But then I realize, it’s what our arrangement entails. ‘Forget I said that. I’m still trying to get used it,’ I say. ‘Tell me, where are we going?’ I ask him.

‘Downtown,’ he says, helping me in the car.

‘Oh,’ I say, before he closes the door, ‘I’ve always wanted to go shopping downtown.’

He smiles. ‘Good to know.’

When he drives off, I feel like I’m stinking up this place with my Retro House smell. However, he doesn’t say anything about it. Maybe he is polite about it, maybe I am overreacting and I don’t smell like Retro House. His hand rests on the clutch and I take a deep breath. ‘Thank you for the money.’

‘You don’t have to thank me,’ he says.

‘Well, I know, but it’s always nice to be grateful for certain things. So expect a shit ton of thank you’s.’

He smiles. ‘I can’t wait, Becky.’

✤ ✤ ✤

All the laptops are insanely expensive and I really feel bad for choosing one. They are worth more than all the rent I still have to pay .

Henry stays close by, his hand sometimes placed on my back to lead the way. The way he stands behind me, looking over my shoulder as I’m checking out the laptops, tells me he is a very protective man.

‘You see anything you want?’ Henry asks.

‘That one,’ I say, point to the cheapest laptop on display. It’s pretty ugly, but it’ll do the job I guess.

He scoffs. ‘Be honest with me,’ he says. ‘Which one do you want?’

I see one that totally caught my eye the second I arrived at this part of the store. ‘The pink one,’ I basically say in tiny font. It’s beautiful, with the white keyboard and pink letters on it.

He chuckles, before making eye contact with an employee, gesturing he wants the pink one. I watch the employee hurry to the back, only to meet us again with a box containing the pink laptop.

The power this man holds.

‘Now we need to get you a phone,’ he says. ‘Choose wisely.’ We maneuver through the crowds of people towards the phone department.

I see some of his company Midnight and I almost ask him if he wants me to pick one of his brand. However my eye lands on this perfect one in a lovely shade of pink. It would almost perfectly match my laptop. And it has the Midnight logo on the back, meaning he is literally paying for his own paycheck probably, but would he mind?

I look up at him, only to see a smirk on his face. ‘I think we have a winner,’ he says, grabbing the right box. ‘Sure about this?’

‘Absolutely positive.’

We go to the register and the cashier’s eyes nearly roll out of their sockets when her gaze lands on Henry. I can’t blame her, I have to contain myself not to gawk at him the entire time too. After he paid for everything (three thousand dollars, just saying), we walk towards the car.

Once we’re both seated, I turn to the side. ‘Thank you for the stuff. I really appreciate it.’

‘Of course, Becky,’ he says. ‘It’s kinda the deal with all this, right?’

‘I know, I know, but it’s just that I never owned a laptop before. I signed up for Sugar Sugar on a library computer.’

He snorts. ‘Really?’

‘I know, it’s embarrassing. It’s just that I never owned something that was this new. I always had the hand me downs when it came to phones.’ I’ll just ignore that one time I actually stole a phone, but got caught and ended in juvie…

He nods. ‘Remember, Becky, that is something of the past.’ He starts the car and adds: ‘If you want something, just let me know and I’ll get it for you.’

✤ ✤ ✤

‘Henry transferred even more money to my account,’ I say to Viola and Genevieve that night, as we sit in the park at around six in the evening, after I told them in detail about my first date with him. ‘I mean, first the laptop and the phone, now even more money?’

‘How much is it this time?’ Viola asks.

‘Another five hundred. I didn’t even do anything. I just walked with him through the store, as he spend three thousand dollars on the laptop and phone.’

‘Oh, it’s such a shame I’m dating,’ Genevieve says, ‘and Greg doesn’t like to share. I wish I had this.’ She leans back and sips her orange juice. ‘Also, you’re totally gonna fall for him. I’m betting my entire life insurance on it.’

‘Shut up,’ I say. ‘I’m not gonna fall for him, this is merely a business contract. I spend time with him, he gives me money and giving me the opportunity to provide for myself. That’s it.’

‘Mhm,’ Viola says, raising her eyebrows. ‘You don’t believe that, do you? I mean, I’ve been looking _all over_ the internet for more information on CEO Henry Cavill the second you told me he works at Midnight. That man is hot as hell and from what you’re telling us, he is also really nice and kind. I’m with Gen on this one, you are gonna fall in love with him.’


	2. October

##  _October 1st 8 p.m._

Henry asked me if I wanted to go with him to a rooftop party. I mean, of course I wanted to go with him, because I’ve never been to a party like that. However, as I try to find something to wear, I’m left with barely anything. The money he gave me, went straight to the bank to pay off a tiny bit of my severe debt. I kinda want to ask Henry to just pay it all off, but I’m too scared to ask him.

But now I sorta wished I spend it on clothes. I don’t even know what one wears to a rooftop party.

I slip on my black heels after I put on a simple black shirt with long sleeves, that’s tugged in a grey checkered pants. This looks sort of sophisticated.

I hope.

With my purse in hand, I walk out of my door. I know Henry is already here, so now I only need to sneak passed mister Del Rossi.

Let’s just hope he is watching some series again.

After I peeked around the corner, I see he is too invested in a different movie, so I shoot out of the building without him noticing me. Once I’m outside, I see Henry leaning against his Range Rover.

He looks so expensive. I think his belt is probably worth more than my entire outfit. The black slacks accentuate the firmness of his legs (and probably the firmness of his ass too, but only time will tell) and he paired it with a tight white blouse, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong underarms and probably severely overpriced watch.

Instead of greeting him, like you usually do when you see someone you know, I let the words: ‘I’m severely underdressed,’ slip, whilst stopping in the middle of the curb.

’No, you’re not,’ Henry says. ‘You look perfect.’

Perfect isn’t a word I would associate with me. Ever. Even my parents and siblings would agree that perfect and I don’t go hand in hand.

‘Excuse me, what?’

‘You look perfect,’ he repeats. ‘If you think you’re underdressed though, you and I could go shopping first. We have time.’

‘Really?’ I ask. ‘I mean, you wanted to go to the party tonight. Don’t you wanna be on time?’

‘There is a thing called fashionably late,’ he says. ‘Besides, I don’t want you to feel underdressed.’

Is this honestly my life now? I sort of say I want something and he just puts his life on hold, simply to give it to me?

I could get used to that.

‘How much time do we have left?’ I ask. ‘I mean, is there even a store open now?’

‘We have all the time in the world. Now get in, Becky,’ he says with a smile, ‘I know a place that is still open.’

✤ ✤ ✤

When Henry says he knows a place, he really does know _a place._ He takes me to the most luxurious boutique in the entirety of Manhattan and the owner (who is a lot smaller than Henry, but wow, is he very handsome. Totally someone I would break my neck for if I saw him passing me) holds up his hand when he spots us. ‘Henry, what a surprise.’ His brown eyes land on me and he smiles even brighter than before. ‘Hi there, I’m Peter.’

He holds out his hand and I carefully take it. ‘I’m Becky, nice to meet you.’

‘What can I do for you today?’

‘We’re going to the rooftop party at Gino’s,’ Henry says, his hand possessively in the dip of my waist, almost as he wants everyone in the store (and that includes the four rich looking guys in the back of the store) to know I’m with him. ‘And we want something for her to wear. Though I think she looks beautiful already, she should feel comfortable.’

Excuse me, my legs should not feel this wobbly.

Peter nods. ‘Well, I have just the thing for you. Walk with me, Becky.’

Henry squeezes my waist, before I walk with Peter to the left of the store.

‘So,’ Peter says, ‘are you enjoying this type of lifestyle?’

How does one respond to this implication, especially when it’s true? ‘Hm, what?’

‘Oh love, I know all about what you two have,’ he says. ‘Henry and I go way back.’ He goes through the clothing racks, as his eyes scan every item on the it. ‘We went to high school together and became best friends. We still are. So, after college, he goes to start Midnight and became filthy rich and I didn’t. I worked in cheap clothing stores after studying fashion and when he saw me struggle, he gave me the head start I needed. And now, look at me. One of the greatest boutiques here in Manhattan.’

‘Really?’ I ask him. ‘Does he give away money like that all the time to anyone?’

He shakes his head as a chuckle leaves his lips. ‘No,’ Peter answers. ‘He barely does it. Only to charities, but he always does it anonymous. You know, it was my idea to sign him up for Sugar Sugar. He is getting pretty lonely.’

‘How?’ I ask. ‘I mean, how does someone who looks like that, doesn’t have someone in his life?’

‘He is…’ Peter starts, ‘wait a minute, how do I say this? Keen on a solitary life.’

‘But why did he sign up then?’

‘Because the solitary life isn’t doing him any good.’ He smiles and says: ‘Becky with the good hair was the first profile to pop up on his feed and it was all he needed to see.’

I’m oddly flattered. ‘Really?’ I ask. ‘Why?’ I try to think about my profile picture, which was a very plain picture of me sitting in the grass during a picnic with Genevieve and Viola.

‘I don’t know. We signed him up and he was sold the second he saw your pictures and read your profile. He didn’t even check other profiles, just clicked on yours to send you a message.’ Peter has obtained a set: a tight black skirt with a white long-sleeved crop top. He ushers me to follow him and like a puppy I trail behind him. He grabs some black shiny boots, with a high thin heel after he asked for my shoe size. He even takes some jewelry with him.

Peter hangs everything up for me in the dressing room, as Henry takes a sit in a chair. ‘Show me when you’re dressed, okay?’ he says to me. I nod and when Peter stepped out of the dressing room, I close the curtain behind me.

While I’m changing, I hear them softly talking. I lean towards the curtain with my ear and try to decipher what they are talking about, but I can’t understand what they’re saying.

Is it true though, what Peter told me? Was Henry really sold the second he saw my profile? Meaning, he is not lying when he calls me beautiful?

I look at myself in the mirror and grab the silver collier and the matching ring. This looks amazing, I think to myself, as the skirt and top give my such an hour glass figure. My work attire is a star in hiding the few curves I have and my other clothes don’t quite accentuate it. I put on the heels and open the curtain.

‘My oh my,’ Peter says as I step out. ‘You are stunning.’

‘Thanks to you,’ I chuckle. ‘I absolutely love it.’

Peter walks over to me, pulling the skirt a little straighter. ‘You know, I love every piece of clothing in this boutique, but it’s always the model who makes it work. You sure you don’t want to model for me?’

I should not be blushing. ‘I don’t think I would be good enough for that.’

‘Nonsense,’ Peter says. ‘You don’t have to say yes straight away, but think about it.’ From the looks of it, he is dead serious.

Henry stands up and gets closer to me, causing him to literally tower over me. He grabs his hand in mine, inspecting the ring. ‘Peter,’ he says, ‘do you have a ring that is a little bit more delicate?’

His friend nods and walks into the store to grab a different ring. Henry gently pulls the ring off my finger.

‘What do you think?’ I ask him. ‘I mean, you’re probably gonna pay for it.’

‘I am gonna pay for it,’ he says with a smirk. ‘What Peter said: you’re stunning. I think I’ll be making everyone very jealous with you by my side.’

I highly doubt it, but this sure is a nice compliment.

Peter comes back with a different ring and after they exchanged them, Henry slides on the other ring around my finger.

This sure gives me enough to work with for my next dream, I can tell you that. The ring is a little bit more delicate, but when I look at it, it’s indeed better around my finger. ‘Perfect,’ Henry says. ‘You want a clutch to match with this?’

‘I’d rather have a purse,’ I mumble.

I don’t have to tell Henry twice. ‘Peter, could you grab some purses for her to check out?’

The store owner hurries back to the store once again, this time to fetch us some purses.

‘Should I put my other clothes in a bag?’ I suggest. ‘I can do that, while we wait.’

I already turn around, but Henry pulls me back. ‘No,’ he sternly says, ‘stay here.’

While Peter gives us four purses to show, he is actually the one that puts my other clothes in a bag, neatly folding it in a way I never do that. I pick a black and white purse, though I really like the pink one. It’s just that I’m not confident enough to pull off a bright pink purse with this outfit.

After Peter cut out the tags off my clothes and Henry paid for them (it was a good two thousand dollars, my poor heart), he receives the bag with my clothing from his friend and we say our goodbyes to Peter. ‘Can we go here more often?’ I ask Henry, as he opens the door for me.

‘If you want that, of course.’

Once we’re seated in his car again, I look to the side. ‘Thank you, I absolutely love it.’

‘Good,’ he says, starting the car. ‘You look like an absolute vision, Becky.’

✤ ✤ ✤

I know about how valets work, but I’ve never seen it happen in real life. I actually thought about working as a valet, but then I remembered I don’t have a drivers license, so that possibility went off the table fairly quick.

Henry held up his hand when a valet guy wanted to walk around the car to open my door, only to do it himself. He offered me his hand and once I took it, he helped me out of the car. Now, we’re stepping into the elevator that’s prettier than the entire apartment building I live in.

‘Gino is a good friend of mine,’ he says. ‘His parties are usually pretty okay, but if you want to leave, just let me know.’

‘Okay,’ I say.

‘And I don’t know how your alcohol tolerance is,’ he continues to say, ‘but his drinks are pretty strong, so watch out for that.’

Good to know. I can’t handle alcohol very well, except maybe a nice wine. ‘Is there wine?’ I ask him.

‘I’ll check for you. Also, remember not to take drinks from anyone, but me, okay?’

I scoff. ‘How old do you think I am?’ I ask. ‘I’m a grown woman, Henry.’

He smiles. ‘Well, you know, Becky,’ he continues to say, ‘Gino might be nice, but his friends are not always.’ He looks to the side. ‘If I were you, I’d stay close.’

‘I was thinking the same,’ I mumble, my cockiness dissolving as we speak. ‘I’m not really good at parties,’ I admit. ‘My last party was prom and it was horrendous. And that with people I actually knew.’

He nods. ‘Another reason to stay close.’

We step out of the elevator and oh my gosh, the aesthetic of the rooftop party is beautiful. I see golden lights everywhere and with the terrace heaters, the place has a nice temperature, so I’m not freezing to death in this outfit. I hear some music, watch some people dancing in the middle of the roof, whilst other are standing near the bar or sitting on large lounge sofa’s.

Okay, the people seem okay, just they all look so expensive, while I on the other hand look really poor, even in this two thousand dollar outfit. Is Henry absolutely sure he wants me to interact with these bouche people? I mean, I am part of his reputation now. If they think low of me, I honestly don’t mind, since I’ll probably ever see them again, but if they think low of Henry, because of me… That can’t be good, especially because he pays me to be by his side.

Henry must sense my discomfort, because after he places a heavy hand on my lower back, he leans down to my ear and whispers: ‘If I were afraid you were gonna embarrass me, I wouldn’t have taken you here. Just be yourself.’

‘Are you sure?’ I ask. ‘Henry, _I’m_ not even content with myself. I can fake something, get an alter ego. Just give me a minute to prepare.’

‘No,’ he says sternly, ‘I want you.’

My knees barely recover from that comment. He wants me…

…to be by his side, without putting up an act. This has no sexual meaning what so ever. We agreed on that, I know that. ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Just me. Sure?’

He chuckles. ‘Sure,’ he confirms. We walk towards a table and he hands me a glass of wine, before getting himself some whiskey.

_Rich men really drink that?_

His hand has risen from my lower back, to the midst of my back, his thumb caressing the bare part between my skirt and crop top. It’s such a casual and simple gesture from his side, but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, with added heart palpitations.

‘If anyone asks,’ Henry says, ‘you’re my date.’

I actually wonder if anyone is even gonna notice me, because has Henry seen himself? Right when I want to say something to him, a man walks up to us. ‘Henry, you made it!’

‘Gino, nice to see you again.’ Henry holds out his hand and the two shake hands.

Oh, Gino is quite handsome as well. Does Henry only know beautiful people? I thought Peter was to die for already, but Gino sure is a sight for the eye as well. ‘Hello there,’ Gino says, a lovely smile appearing on his face.

‘Hi,’ I say, not quite sure if I should introduce myself or wait for him to ask my name.

‘This is Becky,’ Henry says, when he senses my incapability to be polite. ‘Becky, this is Gino.’

‘Nice to meet you, Becky,’ Gino says, shaking my hand with full enthusiasm, that my shoulder nearly gets dislocated. But it’s nice to be welcomed to someones party with this much excitement. Especially because I have never met the man before.

‘Nice to meet you too,’ I finally manage to say. ‘I love the aesthetic of the party. Very warm and beautiful.’

Gino smiles. ‘You know, you’re the first one to actually say something about it.’ He looks at Henry. ‘I like her.’

He ushers us to follow him to a lounge couch in the corner and while we trail behind, I tug Henry’s hand. ‘He likes me?’ I ask him. ‘Did he really say that?’

‘He did,’ Henry says with a smile.

I watch Gino shooing people away from the couch and holds out his hand, gesturing for us to take a sit. Henry and Gino both wait till I’m seated and I place my purse on my lap, since I’m not sure how far up my skirt you can look if I just normally sit. When I crossed my legs as well, Henry places his hand on knee, as he talks business with Gino.

My entire skin burns, even the part where his cold ring is making contact with my leg.

While I’m slightly disappointed that Henry and Gino aren’t involving me in the conversation, I realize it’s not about me. Of course it’s not about me. I’m tagging along with Henry, who is much more important than I am and who has business to do, even at a party.

I let my eyes wander over the people, who all seem to know each other. People kissing each other on the cheeks as they approach someone. Women wrapping their arms around some guy, who pulls them close as they clink their glasses.

‘Where are the restrooms?’ I ask them.

‘Near the elevators,’ Gino answers. ‘On your right hand.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ I look at Henry and softly say: ‘I’ll be right back.’

I place my empty wineglass on a table and walk through the people towards the restrooms. Not to pee or anything, but to regain my thoughts. Everyone here is so pretty and gorgeous and I feel so out of place.

I mean, even the bathroom is decorated in such a pretty and rich manner, and I’m none of that. I look into the mirror and decide to touch up some of my lipstick. I do some breathing exercises, because I feel like I’m totally working myself up.

After a short break from the party, I decide to walk back to the lounge couch. I push myself through the enormous crowd of people, but when I’m really close to Henry and Gino again, I bump into someone.

‘Oh, shoot, I’m so sorry,’ I say.

The guy who I bumped into smiles at me and all of the sudden I’m in desperate need of a pair of sunglasses. Why are his teeth so white? Is that even healthy? ‘No, it’s okay,’ he says. ‘Who you here with?’ he then asks me.

‘I’m with him,’ I say, pointing at the lounge couch, only to see Henry already looking at us.

‘Want something to drink?’

 _Yeah, that’s a no._ I’m not accepting a drink from someone who clearly has had one too many. ‘No, but thank you for offering,’ I say, taking Henry’s advice on not taking drinks from anyone, but him to heart. ‘I’ve gotta go.’

I want to walk passed him, but the man grabs my wrist tightly. ‘Come on, one drink.’

I barely learned anything in juvie, but there is one thing I learned pretty damn quickly: if you want to break yourself free from someone’s grasp, rotate your arm towards their thumb. They can’t hold onto you, even if they wanted to and seeing this man’s level of intoxication, I think it’ll be doable.

I twist my arm towards his thumb and like I predicted, he lets go of me. ‘No thanks,’ I say, quickly walking up to the lounge corner. Henry is on the edge of his seat and when I approach him, he stands up. ‘Was he harassing you?’ he asks me, his eyes a few shades darker, as he places his hand on my upper arm.

Why does Henry look like he is ready to skin the guy alive and why is that so hot?

‘No,’ I say.

‘It sure looked like it to me.’

He wants to pass me, but I place my hand on his chest (okay, that was the original plan, but it lands on his stomach). ‘I took care of it, Henry,’ I say, as we both look at the guy who is still rubbing his hand, meaning I took him by surprise. ‘I promise you, I’m fine.’

He clears his throat, almost as if he has to restrain himself not to do anything about it. He simply nods and when the two of us sit down again, he places a heavy hand on my leg, as he talks to Gino about more business stuff. His grip on my leg slightly tightens every time the guy looks our way.

While I might not understand a lot of it, I am completely drawn in by the way Henry speaks. He sounds so confident when talking about something of his own field of expertise. Tine goes by, but there isn’t a second I’m bored.

I wrap my arm around his and place my cheek against his thick upper arm.

That sparks his attention. ‘Look at you,’ he says with an endearing smile on his face. ‘You tired, Becky?’

‘No,’ I say, but that’s a lie. In all honesty: I’m dog tired.

‘We’ve been here for quite some time,’ he says, looking at his watch. ‘Two hours nearly.’

‘We’ve been here for two hours?’ I ask him. It sure doesn’t feel like that. No wonder I’m tired, it’s way passed my bedtime. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I think we should go.’

‘No, we don’t have to, not if you’re still busy.’

‘We’re going,’ he tells me.

Yeah, I can’t argue with that.

I sit up straight and when he is standing, he holds out his hand for me to take. While I’m perfectly capable to get up myself, I gladly take him up on his offer. We say our goodbyes to Gino (who actually pulls me into a hug, as apparently you do when you’re rich? I don’t know) and once we’re in the elevator again, I can’t hide my smile. ‘Gino’s nice.’

‘He is.’

‘You’re not mad about the other guy, right?’ I ask.

He scoffs, but I feel like that is the answer to my question.

‘It’s not that bad, Henry.’

‘It was to me,’ he says.

The valet pulls up the car and Henry helps me in the car again, a trait I very much appreciate and hope it never stops. Whilst Henry drives me home, I lean back against the seat and turn my head to the side. ‘What’s up?’ he asks me, turning the steering wheel with just one hand.

‘I never heard you talk that much about work,’ I say. ‘It’s nice to hear you talking about something you’re passionate about. You know, you talk a lot with your hands, once you get thrilled about something. It’s endearing.’

Henry laughs. ‘Endearing you say?’

‘Oh, right, you’re a tough guy. Endearing doesn’t match with your reputation.’

He stops the car in front of my building. ‘Thanks for going with me.’

‘Of course,’ I say. ‘If Gino has another rooftop party, please invite me. I love the way he decorates it. Or lets it decorate, I don’t know. I feel like there should be a little bit more orange and yellow added to it. Not those neon colors, but those warm and soft— Henry, why are you laughing?’

‘It’s nice to hear you talking about something you’re passionate about,’ he says with a smile. ‘You want me to walk with you?’

’No, if my landlord sees me walking in with a man like you, I have no idea how he is gonna react and I don’t want to find out.’

He opens the door for me after he got out himself and hands me the bag with my old clothes. ‘I’m taking you shopping soon,’ he says.

I like how he tries to formulate it as a question, but fails. Shows me that no matter how much money he has, he is still human. ‘Really? We’re going to Peter again?’

He nods. ‘Among other shops, yes.’

‘Great, sure. Thank you for tonight. I really had fun.’

‘Me too,’ he says.

I don’t know how to say goodbye to him, so I simply smile and walk towards the entrance of the apartment building. I look over my shoulder one more time and shyly wave at him.

I quickly run up the stairs and once I’m in my room, my phone beeps in my purse. Henry transferred a _thousand dollars_ to me? **Thank you for your company tonight, Becky** it says in the description.

I can’t help but smile, though it doesn’t last very long, because I know that I have to save part of this money to pay off mister Del Rossi and the rest for my debt.

Meaning that I can’t enjoy it yet.

But that’ll come soon, I’m sure.

##  _October 3rd 2 p.m._

Henry takes me shopping like he promised, but after the morning I had in Retro House, I continue to yawn and feel absolutely exhausted. Even in the dressing rooms, I sometimes just sit on the little stool, hoping to regain some energy. However, I pull myself together fairly quickly when I realize Henry is here to pay for everything my heart desires. The least I can do is be a nice shopping partner.

We decide to take a bit of a coffee break at a nearby cafe and thankfully that means I can get some caffeine in my body. I sure need it.

‘You’re tired,’ Henry notes.

Okay, I’m not doing a very good job at hiding it apparently. ‘Yeah, I’m sorry. Rough morning at the restaurant,’ I say. I lean back in the chair and close my eyes as the soft sun rays shine on my face. ‘I also slept like shit last night.’

‘You want another job?’ he asks.

I open my eyes again, to look at him. ‘Oh absolutely, but I have very little to offer,’ I say. ‘I’m not qualified for anything.’

‘How about you just quit your job?’ he suggests.

I choke on my own spit. Did he honestly just say that I quit my job? As lousy as working at Retro House is, I can’t just stop. ‘Excuse me, what?’ I ask. ‘That I’m pretty dependable on you already is out of my own comfort zone, but quitting my job? Seriously? What do you want me to do with my time? Take your credit card and shop till I drop?’

_Come to think of it, that actually sounds like something I would thoroughly enjoy._

Henry chuckles. ‘I was going to offer you a different job,’ he says.

While the fantasy of me walking downtown with Henry’s credit card in my thousand dollar purse, an assistant who carries my bags and a little chihuahua walking next to me in a matching outfit runs through my mind, I realize that another job might be better for my pride.

‘Oh,’ I say, as the idea of a new job sparks my interest. ‘What type of job?’

‘Midnight is looking for someone who can work in the archives. It’s currently a mess there and it’s only getting worse, unless someone is there to organize it.’

I think I can actually do that. ‘Are you sure?’ I ask. ‘I mean, I don’t want to work for you because you feel sorry for me.’

‘I don’t feel sorry for you,’ Henry tells me. ‘I want to give you an opportunity to make money, before your writing career takes off.’

I snort. ‘Yeah, like that’ll ever happen

He tilts his head. ‘It’ll happen, Becky, I’m sure of that. You know, the money you earn with this job, can go to your bank account and you save up.’

‘Are you serious?’

He nods. ‘Otherwise I wouldn’t have offered.’

This is an amazing opportunity. I mean, working in the archives, that’s a job I would actually quite love to do. This will give me the opportunity to provide for myself and work on my books, while Henry still does what he does as my… I really don’t want to think about the word…

The things he does as my _sugar daddy_.

But there is one thing that is holding me back. ‘I can’t take you up on that offer,’ I say. ‘You see, your office is too far from my place. It’s around an hour by car. I don’t have a car, nor can I drive and… Going with public transportation is just something I can’t afford.’

‘You can’t drive?’ he asks me.

I shake my head.

‘You want to be able to drive?’

I shrug. ‘Maybe on abandoned roads somewhere else, but not here in New York. That just gives me stress.’

Henry nods. ‘Well, I’ll arrange a car for you to pick you up whenever you have to go to work. However, on your first day, I’ll pick you up, so I can help you around, get you a bit more familiar with the place.’

My eyes widen. ‘Seriously?’

‘Of course,’ he says.

‘Isn’t that a hassle? I mean—’

‘I don’t mind driving,’ he interrupts me, ‘and I don’t mind picking you up.’

I feel like I can’t argue with that, so I nod. ‘How much money would I make?’

‘Around three thousand a month, but you and I can negotiate about that.’

I think three thousand a month is absolutely fine, especially because I can pay back mister Del Rossi in no time once I have a steady salary. ‘Henry, I don’t know how to thank you. This is absolutely amazing.’

‘You can thank me by accepting the job. We’ll sign something tonight.’ He pulls out his phone and says: ‘I’ll have my assistant working on that. I’ll call him right now.’

✤ ✤ ✤

 **Becky:** LISTEN UP LISTEN UP

 **Becky:** I quit my job!!

 **Genevieve:** You’re a full time sugar baby now?

 **Genevieve:** I mean, I thought the sites told you not to do that?

 **Becky:** No, I have another job.

 **Viola:** Oh really??? Tell us all about it!

 **Becky:** Meet Midnight’s new archivist: Miss Rebecca Kim.

 **Genevieve:** Beck, you serious? You’re gonna work for your daddy?

 **Becky:** Yes I’m serious and whenever you refer to Henry, either use his full name or the term SUGAR daddy.

 **Genevieve:** I’ll think about it 😉

 **Genevieve:** It’s just that daddy has a nice ring to it.

 **Genevieve:** Daddy Henry omfg

 **Becky:** ANYWAYS

 **Becky:** I’m gonna make 3000 a month!

 **Viola:** I love my bf, but at this point I want what you have.

 **Viola:** I want to make $3000 a month, whilst also getting lovely gifts too.

 **Viola:** I’m so happy for you!!

 **Genevieve:** BECKY!!! I HAVE A GOOD IDEA!!

 **Genevieve:** GIVE HIM BLOWJOBS WHILE HE IS WORKING AND YOU’RE UNDERNEATH THE DESK!!

 **Becky:** GEN, NO!!!!

##  _October 7th 7:30 a.m._

We settled on the normal three thousand a month, since I don’t want special treatment simply because I am Henry’s _sugar baby_. We also decided that Henry offered me the job, after visiting Retro House a few times and we got to talk about something I want to do with my future. I mean, it’s not a total lie, so it’s easy to sell if anyone asks.

After he called his assistant, we went to even more stores, because I need to dress to impress, especially on my first day of work.

And today is the day. I would lie if I said I wasn’t nervous, because last night I couldn’t sleep at all. I was tossing and turning, to a point I fell off my bed.

Twice.

Henry kept his promise and picked me up and we’re already ten minutes on the road. But the traffic is really bad today, however I feel like it wouldn’t matter if I was late on my first day, when you drive along with your boss, a.k.a. the CEO of the entire company.

Henry leans back in his seat, as he watches the road. We’re standing completely still and that makes me even more nervous. ‘Don’t worry,’ he says, ‘it’ll go fine today.’

‘Really?’ I ask him. ‘I mean… I don’t know why I’m so nervous. What if no one likes me?’

‘Impossible,’ Henry retorts within a second. ‘You have a very likable personality, Becky. If someone doesn’t like you, maybe I should fire them.’

That should not make me this giggly from the inside, but it still does. ‘You don’t need to do that.’

Henry pulls up, only to stop shortly afterwards. The road is jam packed and he is getting very frustrated now, though he tries his best to hide it.

‘Do I have breaks?’ I ask him.

‘You can have as many breaks as you want,’ he says.

‘Henry, I don’t want special treatment just because I’m your… You know what. I want to be just like one of your other employees.’

He chuckles. ‘Well, since you work from eight—though I think today you start at nine, with this traffic—till two or three, you should have two breaks of thirty minutes.’

‘That’s long,’ I note.

‘I like to give my employees a lot of breaks,’ he says. ‘Helps them to keep concentrated. You can grab your lunch in the cafeteria, it’s all free, so don’t worry about that. You can hang around there, but the view from the archives is lovely, so who knows you want to stay there. That’s up to you.’

I look to the side, at the exact moment Henry runs his tongue over his bottom lip. ‘On normal days,’ I say, ‘do I see you?’

‘You can come up to my office whenever you want.’

‘Henry,’ I mutter, ‘I’m just like your other employees.’

‘I know that,’ he says. ‘But I literally personally hired you. Meaning you’re not like my employees to begin with.’

I let out a chuckle. ‘Mhm, we’ll see.’

✤ ✤ ✤

The exterior of the Midnight building is magnificent, but the inside is even more ravishing. The floors shine, the walls are either painted or covered in wallpaper, I can’t tell the difference and even the ceiling is decorated.

I receive my own pass that gives me access to any room, including the upper floor, which is Henry’s office where only he, his assistant and people who are invited are allowed. He shows me the floors and I try to ignore every glare I receive from people who are obviously surprised and confused by the CEO giving _me_ a tour of this place.

We finally arrive on the seventeenth floor and after we walked through a long hallway, we arrive at the archives.

And to call this a mess, is an understatement. I don’t think I have ever seen this much paper unorganized on the floor in my life. ‘How is your company this successful?’ I ask Henry, who stands behind me, taking in the mess. ‘This is absolutely appalling.’

‘It is,’ he admits. ‘You’re still up for the job?’

‘I think I am,’ I mumble. ‘Just tell me how you want it and I’ll start right away.’

Henry explains he wants everything put in folders, boxes and preferably both alphabetized and sorted out by year. That is something I totally agree with.

After I placed my bag in the only free space of this room (the right corner), I crouch down to collect some paper, making sure the entrance is sort of free from paper. Henry walks around the corner, trying to find a label maker, stapler and other office supplies I might need.

The door creaks and I feel this enormous pack of paper land on my back. I wince as I look over my shoulder, to see this guy with such a smug grin on his face.

‘Excuse me,’ I ask, ‘what’s your problem?’

‘Just bringing some paper,’ he says.

‘Are you blind? Can’t you see I’m trying to organize this place?’

‘Sorry, sweetheart, just giving you more to do.’

I clench my jaw. Is this man for real? Firstly, he attacked me with paper. Secondly, he has the audacity to call me _sweetheart_. What’s next? He asks me to take off my clothes and organize this mess naked, while he grabs some popcorn, to enjoy the show and gives me _more_ to do here?

‘Well,’ I say, ‘since it’s my first day here, I don’t think it would be nice of me to ram this pack of paper up your ass, but let me tell you this: if you ever have the nerve to throw a something in this room, I swear to—’

‘Mister Miller,’ I hear behind me. ‘Causing trouble again?’

The color in _Miller’s_ face disappears, as he gulps, realizing Henry has both seen and heard what he said. ‘No, sir, absolutely not,’ he stammers.

Henry walks over to us, placing a box next to my feet. ‘Let’s have a talk outside,’ he says, placing his hand on the guy’s shoulder, ready to escort him out of the room. ‘I’ll be right back,’ he says to me, before walking out.

I open the box Henry placed next to my feet and I see a lot of supplies. I massage the spot on my back, where the thick pack of paper hit me. I bruise like a peach, I know that. A strong wind could break my nose and I’m sure I’ll feel this unfortunate meeting of this pack of paper against my back for awhile.

‘You’re alright?’ I hear Henry ask, when he comes back.

‘I’m okay,’ I say. ‘What happened to him?’

‘Just a small downgrade of his job description.’ The nonchalance in his voice cannot be missed. He seems like a tough boss, someone who applies the rule ‘one strike and you’re out’, but at the same time, he seems like the boss that would give you as much time off as you need, when you have a personal matter and actually visits you to check in with you. ‘I have a last minute meeting,’ he tells me, ‘but you’ll manage, right?’

‘I’ll manage.’

‘If you need anything, just text me. I’ll arrange something for you right away.’

Of course he will. I nod. ‘Okay, thanks, Henry.’

He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He simply nods and walks out of the room.

✤ ✤ ✤

Working at Retro House, left me with defect: I can’t take a long break, not even one. If I took a fifteen minute break during an eight hour day, that would be a reason to celebrate. Now, I can take breaks whenever I want, how long I want.

That’s too much freedom in the work environment.

It just doesn’t feel good to chill around, while I could also be working. However, at around one in the afternoon, my lack of sleep is slowly catching up with me and I sit in the corner, stapling some papers together. It’s just that the way the sun shines onto the spot, that makes me even more drowsy than I already was.

As I stare out of the window, I realize Henry’s right. The view is beautiful here. My eyelids become heavier and heavier and I slowly drift off to sleep.

I don’t know how long I’m sleeping, but I wake up when I feel someone’s hand on my shoulder. I jolt awake, ready to karate chop the person who touches me, only to see it’s Henry. ‘Oh,’I say, ‘I’m so sorry. Don’t think I’ve slept the entire time. I just felt a bit tired and I guess I drifted off to sleep and—’

He shushes. ‘No, no, none of that. I can see how much work you’ve done in one day.’

 _He’s not mad?_ ‘You’re not mad?’

Henry frowns. ‘Why would I be mad?’

‘I don’t know,’ I stammer. ‘Just… Never mind. How was your day?’

‘It was good,’ he says. ‘I think you’re done for today. You’ve done enough.’

‘Henry, my shift isn’t over.’

He smirks. ‘Well, the boss says it is.’ He holds out his hand and helps me up. ‘I’ll take you back home.’

When we’re in the car, Henry doesn’t quite say anything. While I’m figuring out what to say to him, he takes a deep breath and says: ‘I’ll be busy for the next two weeks or so.’

I should not be disappointed, yet I am. ‘Oh, okay.’

‘I won’t be able to meet up or see you at work.’

That’s a bummer. ‘That’s fine,’ I say to him.

‘Tomorrow a driver will pick you up,’ he continues. ‘His name is Laurence, he drives me around from time to time. Very nice man.’

‘Alright,’ I say.

‘And if you need anything from me, you can always text me.’ He looks to the side as he waits for the red traffic light. ‘Promise me, Becky.’

I chuckle as I nod. ‘I promise, Henry.’

##  _October 21st 9 p.m._

Working in the archives is pretty much a solo job. I’ve snapped at people multiple times, before they get a chance to throw papers into the room and now, everyone gently places their papers on a designated table.

Maybe people don’t like me because of I yelled at them, but come to think of it: I only yelled at men.

A group of women asked me to join them on their lunch breaks. While at first glance, they didn’t seem like the type of people I’d personally pick out to eat my lunch with, they are very pleasant to be around with and I’m happy they invited me.

They, of course, all have their own lives, with husbands and children, but it’s nice to not spend my time alone.

I do however have slight issues with stopping today, because the room finally looks a bit more presentable. It’s nowhere near done, don’t get me wrong, but it’s nice to see the entire floor.

With my bag over my shoulder, I wait for the elevator doors to open. These passed two weeks, I indeed barely saw Henry, but he did transfer a thousand dollars to my bank account (with the description ‘just because’). He sometimes texted me, reminding me to take my well deserved breaks and to not only work on organizing the archives, but also work on my book, as it—and I quote—“doesn’t write itself”.

While the elevator takes its sweet time to come up to the right floor, I see that Laurence texted me that unfortunately he has a family matter. I quickly text him back that it’s okay and that I hope everything will be okay for him soon. I step into the elevator. I want to press the button to go to the ground floor, but my eyes land on the button for the upper floor.

I know Henry is in the office today and I could… You know… Talk to him.

I’m not gonna lie, but I missed him. I really wished it wasn’t like that, because I don’t think you should attach to your sugar daddy that much, but I can’t help it. I miss being around him.

When I press the button to go to the upper floor, I have to scan my pass, granting me access. The elevator takes me all the way to the top and when the doors slide open, I can already see Henry sitting behind his desk.

He looks up and smiles when he notices it’s me. ‘I was wondering when I would see you up here.’

‘Well, I don’t have a ride home. Laurence has a family matter.’

‘Yeah, so I’ve heard,’ he says. ‘He texted me a second ago. It’s pretty severe, so he won’t be able to drive you for a while.’ He nods for me to come closer.

‘Oh, that’s too bad,’ I say. ‘If you give me his address, I’ll send him a card.’

‘I’ll text you the address.’ He pats on the wooden top of his desk and I carefully take a seat. ‘You know, I’ll drive you back to your place, just have to save something and log out. Tell me: how are you?’

‘I’m good,’ I answer. ‘I really like it at the archives and it’s finally getting a bit more organized, meaning I can properly start very soon.’

‘I’ve seen it this morning, before you arrived,’ he says. ‘It looked good, Becky. Very proud of you.’

When was the last time I heard those words? I don’t think someone—besides Viola and Genevieve—has ever been proud of me. ‘It’s nothing,’ I say.

He leans back in his chair. Henry looks tired, as if these last two weeks have been pretty hard on him.

‘How are you?’ I ask him.

‘Better now you’re here,’ he quietly says, almost like he doesn’t want me to hear it, but I heard it and I’m so gonna text this to Genevieve and Viola. ‘You know, I have an offer for you.’

‘Oh, okay,’ I say. ‘Tell me.’

‘I could buy you an apartment.’

My eyes nearly roll out of their sockets. ‘What?’ I want to add a ‘No, that’s not necessary’ to it, but I know Henry long enough to realize that’s not gonna work. ‘Where?’ I ask.

He seems surprised by me not resisting the idea (believe me, I’m quite shocked myself), but he quickly regains his composure. ‘Madison Square Park Tower.’

I gasp out load. ‘What? That shit is expensive,’ I exclaim.

‘I can afford it,’ Henry says with a smile.

‘I’ve checked those apartments out before with Viola and Genevieve. It’s very very expensive, Henry. Isn’t it even a bit out of your price range?’

He frowns. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, your profile said your fortune was ten million.

Henry scoffs, almost like he’s offended. ‘Well, you can multiply that by a few.’

I am in shock. By a few? What’s a few? How much money does this man have? I don’t think I can respond to this. He is honestly _that_ wealthy? Oh my, this is unbelievable.

This man is a catch.

‘I have a penthouse in the same building,’ he says, ‘so you can travel with me to work if you want.’

‘Of course you have a penthouse,’ I mutter. ‘If I were to say yes, just know that I don’t want a penthouse. An apartment is more than enough.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asks me. ‘I can buy you a penthouse.’

‘Promise me, only an apartment,’ I say in the same tone I use to everyone who walks into the archives, before they throw their paper in the room.

He smiles. ‘Okay, only an apartment. Want to check it out?’

‘Now?’

‘Yes, now.’

I clear my throat. I should be asleep, but going to Madison Square Park Tower weirdly does not happen to me a lot, so I nod. ‘Okay, sure.’

✤ ✤ ✤

My jaw is probably dislocated by the time we finished our tour on the twenty-fifth floor in apartment 25B of Madison Square Park Tower. Henry is that rich, he can literally ask the receptionist for a key, because he wants to check out an apartment and she just gives him it!

What kind of sorcery is this?

The place is totally up my alley, if I were rich and able to afford it. There are so many opportunities and possibilities to redo this place with the walls and the floors. Decorating the interior to my likings.

‘You want it?’ Henry asks me.

 _Yes!_ ‘I don’t know,’ I say to him. ‘I really don’t know, Henry.’ I stand near the window, admiring the view.

Becky, you so want this apartment. Just listen to your gut, ignore that voice of reason.

‘It’s a lot of money and I feel like you are losing yourself,’ I say to him. ‘Remember, I am your sugar baby, not your best friend like Peter, or your girlfriend. What if you and I stop for this arrangement? I can’t afford this apartment, even with all the money I’m saving and are gonna save.’

Henry lets out a deep sigh, but doesn’t say anything.

‘I very much appreciate all the things you do for me. Really. The laptop, the phone, the job. You are giving me the opportunities in life I never knew I could have. But… This is not just a studio. This is millions of dollars.’

He sits on the windowsill, crossing his arms.

I have probably fucked up big time, but that doesn’t stop me from adding: ‘You only know me for a month, Henry. I can’t accept it.’

‘I’m paying for the place,’ he says, ‘and how you want to furnish it, allowing you to save the money you make and I give you. When you and I stop our arrangement, I’m selling the place again, probably with profit and you have the kick start you need on your bank account.’

Okay, I think I can live with that. Emphasis on think. ‘You really want to do that?’ I ask him one more time. ‘Absolutely positive?’

‘Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have offered it, Becky. I want to buy you this place, so you can move out of… the place you’re currently living in.’

‘For someone with my former salary, it was a great apartment. It even came with a hallway rat.’

He looks to the side, slightly mortified. ‘Please accept my offer.’

I take a deep breath. I know if I say no, I’m going to regret it and Genevieve will kill me. ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I accept your offer.’

‘Good,’ he says, ‘it’s yours next week.’

✤ ✤ ✤

‘Mister Del Rossi,’ I say, as I run into the his condo. He lets out a loud scream from his bed and then I realize, it’s almost midnight. Of course he was sleeping. I should’ve knocked _or_ he should’ve locked his door, because it’s not safe that I can just barge in.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asks me. ‘Unless you have the money—’

‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,’ I say. ‘I’m moving out soon.’

While he first looked slightly pissed because I woke him up, he now seems furious and ready to strangle me.

Which is very understandable.

‘But,’ I quickly say, ‘if you have around one more month of patience, I’ll pay you five months worth of rent _and_ you can keep my deposit.’

Now I have piqued his interest. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. I have an amazing job now, an opportunity to move to a different place and I promise you, I’ll pay you. Like, at the end of November probably.’

He thinks about it, but knowing he can keep the deposit, must make this decision quite easy to make. ‘Okay,’ he says, ‘but I need you to sign something, miss Kim. I’ve had it with you and your promises.’

I totally don’t blame him for that. ‘Of course, mister Del Rossi. Thank you so so much!’

‘And now get outta here.’

‘Oh yes, of course.’ I walk towards the door and before I close it I say: ‘Sweet dreams, mister Del Rossi.’

##  _October 22nd 7 a.m._

**Becky:** Girls, I’m moving

 **Genevieve:** What? Seriously? Daddy Henry bought you a place?

 **Becky:** 🖕🏼🖕🏼

 **Genevieve:** I’ll take that as a yes 😉

 **Viola:** Finally you’re moving out of that dump. ****

 **Viola:** Where are you moving to?

 **Becky:** Madison Square Park Tower

 **Genevieve:** You need a roommate? I’ll dump Greg right away to move in with you.


	3. november

##  _November 2nd 11 a.m._

Henry and I went to a furniture store on October the 24th, where we (excuse me, _he_ ) bought a new bed of my liking, couches, coffee tables, general tables and other stuff I don’t have but could use and got it delivered at our building. On October the 26th, the place was officially mine and he arranged a U-Haul _with_ a driver, so we could move out my clothes, well-loved bedside table and that one chair I’m very fond off.

Since Henry had to go to work and was overloaded by a shit ton of meetings, I invited Viola and Genevieve to help me out. They adored my new apartment and told me we would have many _many_ sleepovers here.

I ordered some curtains and bedding online and after work, Henry and I would work together on getting the place ready. I am officially out of the lousy apartment building I surely hope I’m never going back to. Not having mister Del Rossi breathing down my neck is honestly one of the refreshing parts about this move.

Today I don’t have to work, but since my other stuff don’t arrive till later tonight, I decide to walk around a bit and I miraculously wind up in the Upper East Side. It’s weird not to work my ass off for seven days a week, but only four.

Meaning I have time left for other things. It’s weird, but something I can totally get used to.

It’s a shame that at this point, I can barely buy anything with the money I earn, mainly because I want to pay off mister Del Rossi as soon as possible. I save up the money gives to me. The only money I’ve got to spend is the hundred dollars in cash Henry gave me yesterday.

I already bought myself a coffee with it, but I’m kinda lost as to what more I can buy myself.

I see a man sitting on the curb, his back leaning against a wall as his dog keeps him company. He has a hat in front of him and I see there’s only some shiny coins in it. Poor guy, I think to myself. I always sympathize with everyone who has to live on the streets, no matter what their situation is, because I know I was only one step away from living a life like that.

I grab my wallet and decide to give him seventy dollars, mostly because that leaves me with twenty five dollars, meaning if I get lost on my way back, I can hail a cab.

‘Hi,’ I say, as I approach him.

He looks up. ‘Hello miss.’

‘How are you today?’ I ask him.

‘The sun is shining, so I don’t have anything to complain about.’

Instead of placing the money in his hat, I hold out my hand, with the bills between my fingers. ‘Here, this is for you.’

‘Oh,’ he says, blinking his eyes really fast. ‘It’s a lot, are you sure?’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’

‘This is more than I make in weeks,’ he says with a gentle smile. ‘I am forever grateful.’

He is sweet. Totally the type of person who I would enjoy hanging out with. ‘Do you sit here a lot?’

‘All day, every day, miss,’ the man answers, as he pats his dog on the head.

‘I’ll come back very soon, okay?’ I offer. ‘Especially during the colder months, you know, so you have enough money for shelter.’

He places his hand on his chest. ‘Miss, I appreciate it.’

‘What’s your name?’ I ask him.

‘I’m Tony,’ he says with a shy smile, ‘and this is Lila.’

‘My name is Becky,’ I say. ‘I’ll be back very soon, Tony. Buy yourself and Lila something nice, okay?’

‘I promise, miss Becky. Thank you for noticing me.’

And from the look in his eyes, I can almost tell that’s what he is truly thankful for. Sure the money is a nice bonus, but noticing him, that is what must’ve made his day. I don’t think I can comprehend how hard it must be on someone, being ignored by people all day long. And not just one day, but weeks, months, if not years. After we said our goodbyes, I try to find my new place again, but it’s actually a lot harder than it looks like. Thankfully I have my phone with me, who guides me back to my home.

However, during the trip, I can’t stop thinking about Tony, so maybe I can tell Henry about it. Maybe he can help Tony out…

I mean, to speak with Peter, he is filthy rich.

I wander down the streets and I near my building. I wave to the receptionist when I walk in and the second I get to my room, I let out a content breath. This is my life now, I think to myself, as I stare at the beautifully decorated place. Sure, it’s still a bit bland though, but I know that once Henry has more time, he’ll find an excuse to spoil me to death.

It might be a little much from time to time, but according to my two friends, I should never ever say no to him when he wants to buy me stuff or simply give me money.

Besides, I have no idea how long this agreement we have between us is gonna last, meaning I should enjoy it and take every opportunity.

I hear two knocks on my door, causing me to jump slightly. I’m still in my tiny hallway, still with my shoes on. It’s almost like the person on the other side of the door was waiting for me.

I open the door, only to discover two police officers.

Oh shit, no.

‘Miss Rebecca Kim?’

This is giving me major flashbacks and not the good kind. Should I throw the door in their face and jump out of the window? I don’t think I will survive that escape attempt.

Besides, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. I don’t even know what they want yet.

‘Yes?’

They introduce themselves as officers Richards and Marshall, while they show me their badges. No need to be suspicious, Becky. Maybe they want help with something that happened in the building. ‘We are here to investigate a theft case.’

This is how you can be a good citizen, I try to convince myself. Maybe some filthy rich bitch here got robbed, maybe I’ve seen something. ‘Oh,’ I say. ‘And how can I help with that?’

‘We have reason to believe that there was some property stolen from your former apartment. Owned by a mister del Rossi.’

This isn’t Madison Square Park Tower related. This is Becky related and I’m not liking it so far. ‘What property?’ I ask.

‘A chair and a bedside table, from your former apartment.’

I let out a laugh. They are totally wasting their time. ‘But those are mine,’ I say.

‘Mister Del Rossi claims they were his. He has given us very specific description as to why they belong to him.’

‘I am so sorry, I don’t understand. Why is that my problem? Even if it were his, it’s a chair and a bedside table.’

‘Family value and your history with theft.’

_Damn it._ ‘That’s from when I was a minor.’

‘Therefore still on your record.’

I have no idea how to respond to it. ‘What is gonna happen now?’

‘We can check out the belongings and see whether mister Del Rossi is right or not.’

That must be doable. I cannot believe mister Del Rossi would do something like this. I may not have been the greatest tenant of all time, but I feel like he has had a lot worse. Also, a bedside table and chair? I honestly don’t think that was his, but let’s be fair: I moved in when I was slightly intoxicated. ‘Sure, come on in.’

I show them the so called stolen bedside table and chair and I watch them checking the property. There are so many more useful things they could be doing with their time right now, instead they are wasting my time. I want to say something to them, but I decide to be the bigger person and keep my mouth shut.

No need to anger them.

Officer Richards twists the table leg of the bedside table and holds it upside down. It reveals a pack of money and a pretty old looking ring. ‘What?’ I ask them. ‘What’s that?’

The two exchange looks and not the good kind.

How do I talk myself out of this? ‘If mister Del Rossi is so keen on this table, he can have it back,’ I say. ‘I swear, I don’t care. He can have it. We can settle this now, right?’

‘Miss Kim, if you could turn around,’ officer Marshall says, as he grabs the handcuffs. ‘You are under arrest for larceny.’

‘No,’ I say. ‘This is absolutely ridiculous. Take the damn bedside table and chair if the man is so keen on it.’

‘Ma’am.’

‘Don’t ma’am me,’ I angrily say. ‘This is blown out of proportion nor a reason for me to be arrested. Come on, don’t you have actually thieves to catch? Who yank purses from old ladies shoulders, who rob people at gunpoint?’

However, I’m still getting cuffed. This is humiliating. I cannot believe this is happening, for such a stupid thing like this. I should’ve jumped out of the damn window, hoping to land on a pile garbage.

✤ ✤ ✤

After I was literally dragged out of my apartment building—fucking cuffed!—I am taken to the police station. I’m placed in an interrogation room, without my phone or my other belongings. I am ashamed. Embarrassed.

‘Can I at least call someone?’ I ask officer Richards after fifteen minutes of deafening silence. ‘That’s allowed, right?’

He looks up, making eye contact with something and not long after that, another officer walks in, to hand me my phone.

‘One phone call, miss and make it worth it,’ officer Richards says.

Well, if you could just drop fucking dead, I think to myself. I unlock my phone and click on Henry’s number. Please, pick up, please, pick up.

‘Hi Becky.’

I almost forget what is happening to me at the moment, because he picks up greeting me already. I let out a breath of sheer relief, when I realize that the one person who can help me now, actually picked up. ‘Henry, I’m in trouble.’

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks.

I clear my throat, almost too embarrassed to say something. ‘I’m at the police station.’

‘What? Are you okay? What happened?’

‘I’m fine, but… I’m arrested for theft. It was totally by accident, I swear, but… I just don’t know what to do. I figured you could help me. I am so sorry, but I didn’t know who else to call.’

‘Why did they arrest you for theft?

‘Because apparently I stole something from Mister Del Rossi. I didn’t know, I thought the bedside table was mine.’

I hear him mumble something and I think it’s not directed to me. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’

‘I’m so sorry, Henry.’

‘I’m coming over and I’ll see you in a bit, Becky.’ With that he hangs up and I place my phone on the table, only for it to be yanked away by the other officer.

Time goes by very slowly, especially when you share a room with officer Richards, who carries a very interesting smell with him. Thankfully, they all leave me alone and that’s when my mind starts racing. It continues to go back to when I was younger. When I ran away from the police, after getting caught shoplifting and actually left them on a five block manhunt. I remember the first day I spend in juvie. The second time I was brought to juvie. The moments where I was humiliated. Being looked down on. Laughed at. Not only by others who were stuck there, but also by the guards, finding your sore spot within a second, making you feel absolutely miserable with one comment.

The door opens after two long hours and officer Marshall stands in the doorway. He has a bags of my belongings in his hand and roughly empties it on the table. ‘You’re free to go, miss Kim,’ he says.

I am not being arrested? ‘Hm?’ I grab my phone, before I check my wallet and other belongings.

‘You’re very lucky,’ he says. ‘A certain gentleman and his attorney arranged something for you and you’re off the hook now. Even the arrest is expunged.’

I am not going to jail? I almost want to let out a laugh or a cry or something out of relief, but I am too numb to respond. When I’ve got everything, I follow him to the entrance. Henry sits on a chair, looking around him. He seems so out of place here, it’s almost laughable. Our eyes meet and while he stands up, I rush passed other people towards him. I wrap my arms tightly around his shoulders, causing him to pull me in a strong embrace as he lifts me off my feet.

I’m safe now, I’m not going to jail.

‘Are you okay, Becky?’ he asks me.

‘I am now,’ I whisper.

‘You’re all safe now, darling,’ he says. Is that a _pet name_? That never left his lips before, but it’s oddly soothing. ‘You’re here with me, nothing is going to happen to you now.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘What are you sorry about?’ he asks me, as he puts me back on my feet. He holds my face in his strong and safe hands.

I place my hands on his wrists. ‘For calling you,’ I say. ‘I just didn’t know who else to call and you were the first one that came to mind and…’ I sigh.

‘It’s all taking care of,’ he says in a soft tone. ‘You don’t have to worry about anything.’ When he notes my lack of reaction (still a bit in shock by the events that just took place), Henry tugs me underneath his strong and protective arm. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Home. The place where I was dragged away with my hands behind my back. I don’t think I can ever show my face there again.

The two of us sit in his car, while he does what he says: getting me home. He has placed his hand on my leg as he is maneuvering through the crowded streets. I place mine on his, my fingers playing with his. He told me that his attorney is now going to mister Del Rossi, straightening everything out and how this arrest will not show up on my record.

‘I never knew you were in juvie twice,’ he then finally says. I wonder how long he has been thinking about it and when he actually found out about this.

‘It’s something I’d rather forget.’

‘I understand,’ he says. ‘I was just quite surprised when I found out.’

I squeeze his hand, as I stare at how our fingers are intertwined. ‘I was fourteen,’ I start. ‘I was so pissed at one of my teachers. He was my math teacher and he told me and this other guy that we were by far the stupidest Asians he had ever met. So when this teacher told us he was going to attend this boring party on a Saturday night, we came up with the _brilliant_ plan to break into his house, destroy some of his stuff and write down “racist” on his walls. We managed to get in and vandalized the place. We only weren’t aware that he came home a lot earlier than expected and we were caught red handed. I spend around six months in juvie, before I was let out again.’

Henry nods. ‘What an idiot,’ he mutters. ‘Your teacher, I mean.’

'The second time was a year later. My mom was so disappointed by me and my antics, that she refused to buy me new clothes, until I got my grades up. I only didn’t do it, so I started shoplifting. I was pretty damn good at it. Had hundreds of dollars worth of stuff. At one point I was obviously caught and because of my history and the fact I outran the cops for quite some time, I spend more time in Juvie. I was around sixteen when I got out, but my parents disowned me. Because I was a minor, I went into the system, but I mostly spend my time at the shelter. I worked hard and when I was eighteen, I was let go and started my life. Or tried to start my life.’

‘That must’ve been rough.’

‘It was horrible,’ I say. ‘I thought I let all of that in the past. I never expected mister Del Rossi to do something like this. It was just a table and I’m almost sure he planted the stuff in there, just to get back at me.’ I wipe my tears from my cheek. ‘I’m sorry, Henry,’ I whimper, ‘I am so so sorry.’

‘What for?’

‘This entire mess,’ I choke out. ‘This isn’t what you signed up for.’

He squeezes my hand, but he can’t seem to answer to it. He parks the car in the garage and together we walk to the elevator. I keep my head down, hoping no one will recognize me. He walks me all the way to my room and when I opened the door, I nod for him to come with me.

‘You want some tea?’ he asks me.

‘Yeah sure,’ I mumble.

I plop on the couch, as I rub my face. He hasn’t responded to what I said back in the car and maybe on top of everything else that happened today, I can barely handle it. After he made a cup of tea for me and placed it on my newly bought coffee table, he crouches down in front of me, holding out his hands for me to take. I carefully take them and he lets out a sigh. ‘Don’t you worry, okay? This hasn’t changed anything about our agreement. I took care of mister Del Rossi and what you owe him.’

‘Really?’

He nods. ‘I just wished you told me you were still owing him money. That way I could’ve helped you.’

‘It just didn’t feel right to ask you to pay off debts like that.’

He shakes his head. ‘Becky, I want to be there for you, to support you financially and that includes paying off these sorts of things.’

_I don’t know what to say._

‘So, if there is another thing you need to pay off, you can let me know when you’re ready for that, but remember: I want to help you.’

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I’ll let you know. Thank you.’

‘Of course,’ he whispers, smiling at me. ‘I have another offer, you ready?’

‘Mhm.’

‘I’m going to Paris in around two weeks,’ he says. ‘And I’d like it if you would go with me. We’ll be staying there for a few days, while I have some meetings.’

That sounds wonderful, but there is just one slight problem. ‘I can’t go with you,’ I say. ‘I don’t have a passport and that stuff takes awhile to arrange.’

Henry does not seem fazed at all. ‘Not if I make some calls,’ he says. ‘I’ll take care of that, okay?’

_I’ll take care of that._ It’s almost like I’m walking through the city and he clears the way for me, making sure I can’t trip over anything.

‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘Are you sure you still want to be in this agreement with me? One hundred percent positive?’

‘Of course,’ he says. ‘I really like having you around.’

##  _November 16th 9 p.m._

Henry must be gifted (or just rich), because he indeed arranged a passport for me, meaning I can go with him to Paris. I was thinking we would get on a commercial flight, sitting in first class with some wine and a chair that is more comfortable than my bed.

Henry apparently is too rich for that as well, because he travels by private jet. Which is absolutely mind blowing to me. There is room enough to sit, even a bed to curl up on and a mini fridge, filled with snacks and drinks.

Once we’re in the air and I’m allowed to get out of the seat, I try to find the best possible spot for me to sit on, but it’s just that no matter where I sit, somewhere else seems even better. While I am aware that sleeping might actually be the smart choice for me, I can’t seem to relax. I’m almost like an annoying energizing bunny, hopping around from spot to spot.

Henry leans back in his chair, ushering me over to sit next to him near the window. I plop down and let out a deep breath. Maybe this was what I needed, to be forced to sit down before I make myself absolutely mental.

‘You know’ I say, ‘this is the first time I’ve been on a plane. I can’t believe my first time flying is gonna be on a _private_ jet. This is absolutely amazing. I told my friends Genevieve and Viola about it and they were so jealous!’

Henry chuckles. ‘You want something to drink?’

‘Yeah some water and maybe a few sedatives. I feel like I’m annoying you.’

‘You,’ he says, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge, ‘could never annoy me.’ He twists the cap of the bottle and hands it to me. ‘If you were to annoy me, I would’ve left you in New York.’

There is some truth to it. I take a sip of the water, followed by a few others and Henry hands me the cap and I twist it on again. ‘What is the plan?’ I ask. ‘Can I just go shopping and exploring Paris, while you are stuck in a room filled with boring people?’

‘Something like that, yes.’

_I love my life._ ‘Isn’t it boring, though?’ I ask curiously. ‘All those meetings?’

He shrugs. ‘Sometimes, but I kinda zone out from time to time.’

I snort. ‘And you are the CEO of one of the top tech companies?’

He chuckles, bumping his knee against mine. ‘Well, there is one meeting slash party I’d like you to join.’

I nod. ‘Of course, I’ll be your arm candy.’

Henry smiles. ‘Tell me, Becky, how’s your book going?’

‘Well,’ I say, ‘I finally finished the entire outline, including some scenes I really want in my novel. I actually brought my laptop to maybe continue writing here.’ I sense his next question: ‘And no, I am not going to tell you what it’s about.’

He seems slightly offended. ‘Why not?’

‘Because,’ I say, ‘it’s personal and I’m afraid you won’t like it.’

‘I get the personal part,’ he says, ‘but I highly doubt I won’t like it.’

‘I’m sill not telling you about it,’ I say. ‘Sorry.’

Henry chuckles. ‘Okay, you tease, have it your way.’

##  _November 17th 8 a.m._

When we land in Paris, it’s already midnight and I go straight to bed, since I’m exhausted. I know I could sleep on the plane, but I was too hyper to close my eyes. It’s the sight of the kings bed that makes me immediately sleepy.

Henry and I share a large presidential suit, with two bedrooms, two bathrooms and the only thing that separates us is a thin door and wall. before we meet in the living room area.

I wake up the next morning and decide to get myself ready. I don’t know what exactly is in store today, but I want to make the most out of it. There are crêpes and croissants waiting for me in Paris, so obviously I should get up bright and early.

After some hesitating, I decide to change into a simple jeans, paired with a sweater and some sneakers, since I’m going to do quite the walking today. Henry suggested he’d arrange a driver for me and while that is something I fantasize about, I do think I haven’t been a sugar baby long enough to accept this.

‘There you are,’ he says, a smile noticeable in his voice, when I walk into the living room. He adjusts his tie, before moving on to buttoning down the sleeve of his blazer.

‘Let me help,’ I say, walking closer and do what he was initially doing himself. He is so close right now, I’m afraid he’ll hear my rising heartbeat. ‘All set.’

‘Thank you, darling.’

Ever since the police station, he has been calling me darling every so often and I would lie if I said that the little pet name didn’t make me giddy inside and makes me feel so special. I was never called a pet name when I was younger, so it almost makes it extra special now.

His hand slides in his pocket and he gives me something. ‘Here you go.’

‘What’s this?’ I ask, though I am aware it’s a credit card. He arranged a credit card for me? I never owned a credit card of my o—

‘It’s my credit card.’

To say I’m gobsmacked is a severe understatement. ‘You are giving me _your_ credit card? Why on earth would you do that?’

Henry chuckles. ‘Because you and I have that meeting slash party tonight,’ he says, ‘and I think this would be a perfect opportunity to see you in something… Chanel.’

How does one respond to that? A gulp and a soft ‘Oh okay’ will do for now.

‘There is just one condition.’ Henry pushes my hair back, before placing his hand on my shoulder, giving me a firm squeeze. ‘You have to keep me posted every single time you buy something. Even though I’m in a meeting, I always have time for you.’

My heart flutters, as I simply nod. ‘Okay,’ I say, ‘I can do that.’

‘You want breakfast?’ he asks, almost like he didn’t give me his credit card and that condition a few seconds ago.

‘Yeah, sure.’

✤ ✤ ✤

It took me a good hour, but finally I managed to find the Chanel store. It looks fancy, too fancy for me if I’m being honest.

Will this be my Julia Roberts Pretty Woman moment? Will I be told out of the store, because I look like drab? I guess I should’ve worn something that’s a bit more lavish. I kinda regret not snatching that chihuahua out of that old lady’s hand, because he was wearing a Burberry shirt. That must’ve let the employees know I’m rich.

But I am rich. I carry a very wealthy man’s credit card with me.

I walk into the store and one employee behind the counter looks up. ‘ _Bonjour_ ,’ she says.

Oh no, my French is horrible. ‘ _Bonjour_ ,’ I say and I internally cringe. I sound even worse than I imagined. Please, don’t talk French anymore, Becky. ‘I need something really fancy for a meeting slash party. Like fancy fancy.’

Though the explanation is abysmal, she nods as if she understands. ‘What kind of meeting?’

‘Oh,’ I say, ‘with rich business like people.’

Again she nods. ‘Price range?’

I love this. ‘I don’t have one.’

Her eyes widen and as she nods, trying to understand how a woman like me does not have a price range. I mean, it’s even beyond my comprehension and I’m living this new life, so I totally get her.

I think I try on a billion dresses and every single one of them is not up to my taste. It’s either too frumpy, itchy or it simply doesn’t fit, until I wear this tweed dress, with ruffles at the end of the short sleeves. The skirt of the dress flares and all in all, it’s quite short, but as it’s paired with matching blueish grayish high heels, I do feel like I’m a true vision.

After I bought a purse to go along with it, I walk out of the store and send Henry the pictures I made in the dressing room. I know he told me to keep him posted every single time I bought something and while I don’t know if that entails pictures to go with it, I still attach them.

It only takes less than a minute, before I receive an answer back. He really has time for me…

**Henry:** You look beautiful, darling

**Henry:** Go buy some golden jewelry

**Henry:** Just not a necklace

I stare at the screen. Is he indicating he already bought me a necklace?

**Becky:** Really?

**Henry:** Really

It turns out, I’m better at jewelry shopping, but I think all in all I spend fifteen minutes in the jewelry store. I treat myself on some croissants, as I text my friends, letting them now what is currently happening.

**Viola:** I know I say it all the time, but I’m so fucking jealous.

**Viola** : I wish this was my life!!!

**Genevieve** : I suggest a quickie in the hotel room.

**Becky:** Please, shut up

**Genevieve:** I mean, you’re sharing the presidential suit. I feel like that’s an obligation to have sex.

**Becky:** Shut up

**Genevieve:** OH DID YOU BUY SOME LINGERIE FOR HIM? I MEAN, HE WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF YOU LET HIM KNOW

**Becky:** GEN SHUT THE FUCK UP

**Viola:** No Gen, please continue this!!!!!!

My phone rings, pulling me out of the conversation. It’s Henry. I clear my throat, before I answer. ‘ _Bonjour_ ,’ I say.

Henry laughs. ‘You’ve been adapting to Paris, I hear.’

‘Well yes or should I say: _oui_.’

He chuckles. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Great, I mean, this is a lovely way to spend my free time, so thank you very much. How are you?’

‘Bored, but nearly done. Is there something else you need to buy?’

_Lingerie._ Oh shit, I hate you, Genevieve, for filling my thoughts with these suggestions. ‘No, no, I’m good. When will you be done?’

‘In about an hour.’

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I think I’m gonna start walking back to the hotel. If a miracle happens and I manage to find it, I’ll be back before you and have some time to write. If not, you can find me somewhere in Paris.’

✤ ✤ ✤

Yeah, I got lost. It was even that bad, that I had to share my location with Henry, so he could legit find me somewhere in Paris. He even had to call me, telling me to stop walking, because I was getting further and further away from the hotel with every step I took.

Yes, I am that clueless.

We ordered room service for our dinner and after that, we both got ready for the meeting slash party. I lock myself in the bathroom, to take a shower and get myself totally ready for tonight. However, I can’t stop thinking about the possibility of him giving me a necklace. I wonder what it looks like. I know it’s golden, because he told me to buy something gold, meaning he wants it to match.

Right?

I just hope it matches with my ring.

I put on some red lipstick, as a contrast to the tweed dress. I slip on the heels and grab my purse, that I packed with the lipstick, some lady products and my phone. Not to brag, but I look really _really_ lovely in this outfit. I walk towards the living room and Henry is already done, only fixing his tie as he looks in the mirror. He must’ve heard me, because he turns around.

I make a twirl. ‘And? What do you think now you see it in real life?’

‘Stunning,’ he says, walking towards me. He wears a simply black suit, but even in the simplicity of the plain color, he looks absolutely delicious. His tongue runs over his bottom lip, as he takes me in, top to bottom. ‘I approve.’

I have severe issues responding to him. It’s just that he says all these things and I have no clue on how to answer.

He grabs a velvet box from the table and opens it, revealing a golden penchant, decorated with small diamonds. My mouth falls open. ‘You have got to be shitting me,’ I say. ‘It’s absolutely gorgeous, Henry.’

‘Allow me,’ he says, as he takes the necklace out of the box. I grab my hair together as I turn around, giving him the opportunity to put it on. When the necklace it’s on, he gently pulls my hand away, allowing my hair to drop on my back. He fixes it for a brief moment, before he says: ‘Go check it out.’

I rush towards the mirror and oh my, this matches perfectly with the ring I bought myself. Henry stands behind me again, as he places his hands on the dips of my waist. ‘You still like it?’

‘I adore it, Henry, thank you so much.’ I try not to faint because of the feeling of his large hands in my waist. I almost think that we look like such a beautiful couple, however, I have to remind myself that we’re not. We’re in an agreement, nothing romantic at all.

He squeezes my waist. ‘Now let’s make everyone jealous.’

✤ ✤ ✤

This party is boring, especially when I compare it to Gino’s rooftop party. These people are so dull, so sexless. No one laughs and it almost feels like I’m attending a funeral. I am very tempted to fill myself with alcoholic drinks and snacks, but drinking and eating my boredom away, will probably not help my case.

Henry is talking to someone, who should record audios for people with insomnia. Oh shit, that man is boring. I don’t want to sound like a whiny baby, but I want to go. I wrap my arm around Henry’s, hoping I gain his attention. He has been speaking French to the dull guy in front of him and while that is absolutely fascinating, I am very close to falling asleep. His hands meets mind and he gestures something to the other person, an indication to wait. ‘What’s wrong, darling?’

‘How long is this going to last?’ I ask him.

Henry chuckles. ‘It’s boring, isn’t it?’

‘To say the least,’ I mumble. ‘My grandma’s cremation was more fun than this. I don’t want to complain but every second ticks by at least seven times.’

He nods. ‘I agree, we’re going.’

We are saying our goodbyes to the man, before rushing out of this place. I can’t stop my giggles as Henry helps me in my coat and we’re finally outside again. Far away from the entrance.

‘You have to pay me extra for this,’ I laugh.

He smiles. ‘Well, I think I have the perfect way to make up for tonight,’ he says. He holds out his hand and I take it. ‘I’m sorry I dragged you to this.’

‘Oh please,’ I say, ‘no need to apologize. I was pleasantly surprised to hear your French, it’s a whole lot better than mine. Where are we going by the way?’

‘Secret,’ he says.

We wander through Paris and we finally reach the Eiffel Tower. ‘It’s so beautiful,’ I say. ‘I’ve always wondered what it would be like on top.’

‘Allow me,’ he says with a smile. ‘I was actually going to surprise you tomorrow with a trip, but we’re going now. You look beautiful, it would be a shame if we didn’t make use of that.’

My heart stops beating. Is he for real? Is he seriously going to take me there? ‘Seriously?’ I ask him.

‘Of course. When you’re in Paris, you have to climb the Eiffel Tower.’

‘We are taking the elevator right?’ I ask him.

‘Obviously. Want to go all the way to the top first or…?’

‘The top,’ I decide.

Henry shows his ID to one of the employees and we actually can pass. It’s so amazing what money can do. I hold onto his hand as we get in the elevator and I nearly jump up and down of sheer excitement. ‘I can’t believe you did this for me.’

He frowns. ‘Why not?’

‘No one has ever done this for me before,’ I quietly admit. ‘I never even visited the Statue of Liberty.’

‘You haven’t?’ He seems genuinely surprised. ‘Well, that means I have to take you there very soon.’ The elevator doors slide open and I nearly jump out. I can’t believe we’re at the top. Paris seems so… peaceful now. I look over my shoulder, only to see Henry making pictures.

Of me.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask him.

‘Knitting,’ he deadpans.

I roll my eyes. ‘Ha-ha, very funny. Don’t take pictures of me.’

‘Why not?’

‘I’m not photogenic,’ I say.

He scoffs. ‘Nonsense, you are by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.’

I bite my lip, as I think of what Peter said to me last month. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘So, what Peter told me about you only seeing my profile and being sold when you saw my pictures, was true?’

Is he blushing? ‘Peter is a big fat blabbermouth,’ he simply states.

‘So it’s true?’

He sighs. ‘Well, yeah.’

‘I’m honored,’ I say, ‘especially because you are very handsome and intelligent. I so hope I don’t disappoint.’

‘Becky, darling, you never disappoint. I mean, I’m taking you to the Eiffel Tower of all places. You and I could’ve went straight home after the meeting we just attended.’ He takes a few steps forward and says: ‘I’m trying to give you the life you deserve. You should be able to see every place in the world and you should have everything your heart desires.’

I stare at my shoes, as I bite my lip. I see his shoes stop in front of mine and he places his index finger underneath my chin, making me look up. ‘I don’t deserve it.’

‘Why are you saying that?’ he asks me.

‘I signed up for a site,’ I say, ‘because I was nearly homeless. It doesn’t have anything to do with me deserving it. It has to do with me surviving.’

He places his warm hand on my cheek. ‘Darling,’ he whispers, ‘you signing up for that site and me reaching out to you and spoiling you, has nothing to do with whether or not you deserve it. Come on, I signed up because I had no idea what to do with my money and I was lonely.’

I chuckle. ‘Sounds slightly pathetic when you put it that way. A lot more pathetic than I do.’

‘Good, you can smile again,’ he says. ‘Listen, I want to do this, I want to spoil you absolutely rotten, but if it makes you feel uncomfortable, then… Then I can stop or at least take it easy.’

I lean against his hand. ‘Just… Have to get used to it all.’ I snatch his phone from his hands and say: ‘Now, be my model.’

##  _November 20th 8 a.m._

We’re leaving today at around four in the afternoon. Henry is making breakfast, while I get ready for the day. I change into a simple outfit, because we’re going to fly later today and I twist my hair in a simple bun. These last couple of days were amazing. I still can’t believe this is my life now. Henry is so sympathetic, so sweet and wholesome. It’s in the small things he does for me. He holds my hair as I try to eat some crêpes. He walks on the street side when we’re on the curb. He holds my hand when we cross the road.

‘Good morning,’ I say. ‘Boy, am I going to miss Paris.’ I plant my butt on the seat and smile as I see Henry in the kitchen, working on something. He truly is the real package. He is handsome, intelligent, able to provide himself and me with very decent food and has a lot of money.

What more could a girl wish for?

‘We could stay here,’ he suggests.

I let out a chuckle. ‘No, please. I mean, we could, but I have plans with my friends. I could bail, but that wouldn’t be nice.’

He turns around with a smile and places the plate with cupcakes on the table. ‘You’re a good friend, Becky.’

‘You made these?’ I ask him.

‘I sure did.’

‘You are a man of many talents,’ I say, as I grab one. ‘Henry, I need something.’

That sure as hell gets my his attention. ‘Tell me.’

‘My friend Genevieve’s birthday is coming up,’ I say. ‘And I want to arrange the perfect place for her to celebrate it with her boyfriend and her family.’

Henry frowns. ‘You’re not invited?’

‘Well, not to dinner with her family and boyfriend. The night before, me, Gen and Viola are having a sleepover. She has been stressing about a perfect place to take her family to and that’s why I wanted to arrange this for her.’

He nods. ‘You have a place in mind?’

‘Eleven Madison Park,’ I whisper.

‘For how many people?’

‘Around seven to ten, not sure.’

Henry grabs his phone and starts to type. ‘Once we’re back in New York, I’ll make some calls. When?’

‘November thirtieth. At around nine p.m.?’

He simply nods. ‘Okay, will arrange something. I’ll let them put it on my tab.’

While this might be nothing to him, it means the world to me. I have been wanting to do something for my friends, after everything they’ve done for me and I’m now partially done to thank them. I get out of my chair and wrap my arms around his neck. ‘Thank you so much, Henry, you are amazing.’

He places his hand on my back, pulling me closer to him. ‘It’s no big deal.’

‘It is to me,’ I say, as I pull back. ‘Thank you.’

He smiles, as I plop back on my seat. ‘Not a problem, Becky. I’m glad you’re asking me something like that.’

I blush. ‘Well,’ I redirect the conversation. ‘What’s the plan for today?’

‘I was planning on taking you shopping,’ he says. ‘If that’s okay with you of course.’

‘Want to go to a gift shop with me, to buy some souvenirs for Gen and Viola?’

He nods. ‘Always.’

✤ ✤ ✤

> H. Cavill transferred **$1500** to your bank account.

> Description: _For your lovely company in Paris. I appreciate it, darling_

##  _November 30th 11 p.m._

**Genevieve:** Becky, thank your daddy from me.

**Genevieve:** It’s absolutely amazing and my parents are very impressed!

**Becky:** His name is Henry, Gen, so please call him HENRY

**Becky:** Also, no problem at all 😘

**Genevieve:** Nehhh, daddy has a nice ring to it.

**Viola:** I agree with Gen on that one. Daddy just sounds better.

**Becky:** You were supposed to be on my side on this one…

**Viola:** Sorry

**Viola:** Do you think he is gonna arrange something for my birthday btw?

**Becky:** Hmm, I think I can negotiate something 😉


	4. december

##  _December 3rd 2 p.m._

After we got back from Paris, Henry has been pretty busy. Meaning: we haven’t spend any time together the second we both went into our respective apartments after we got off the plane. He did what he promised though, he arranged a table at Eleven Madison Park for Genevieve’s birthday. Her family desperately wanted to know how I was able to make these arrangements, but thankfully her boyfriend Greg (who is well aware of the type of relationship I have with Henry) saved the day and told them that someone owed me big time.

However, Henry and I only called around four times. He transferred money to my account and when I finally told him about my debt at the bank, he assured me he would take care of it.

And just like that, I was debt free. I mean, if I were rich, I’d obviously be the same. I feel like I would be that type of woman that would speech at a college graduation ceremony and miraculously turn into Oprah.

_You are debt free after college. You are debt free after college. You are debt free after college._

I’d probably be poor again before I reach the age of thirty.

While I kinda missed Henry, it did gave me plenty of time to do other things. Continue writing for example (it’s going really well), organizing the archives some more and meeting up with my friends. We’ve been shopping at the most luxurious boutiques and it feels great to be able to buy my friends stuff. To pay for the things they want, especially after all the things they did for me.

Of course Genevieve pushes the limit, but I could’ve expected that.

New clothes, new lingerie, new make-up. It’s all part of my inventory now. I even bought my first vibrator when my friends and I were in town, buying lingerie. Genevieve tried to convince me to buy myself a dildo as well, trying to see if we could find one that would resemble Henry’s, but seeing those things in front of me, made me extremely uncomfortable. It’s not that I have a dick phobia or something (I mean, I’ve seen a few in my life), but seeing those silicon things, while thinking about Henry’s, made the entire experience nearly agonizing and never ending.

I do have to admit, the vibrator does its work, especially in combination with a fantasy where Henry Cavill and I are the main characters. I mean, sure, it might not be smart to have very _very_ dirty dreams about your sugar daddy, but I simply cannot help it. He is gorgeous, I am horny and desperate, whilst in the possession of a vibrator.

_Can you blame me?_

I’m at the archives, but when I look at the clock, I realize I’ve been working quite some time now, so I think I’ll be calling it a day very soon. I do have a hard time taking breaks still and I find it difficult to stop when I want to stop. The progress is very slowly, but still noticeable. I took two half hour breaks today, which is in indication that I’m growing.

Stapling these papers together and moving those boxes should be the last thing. Ten minutes tops, probably.

‘Can I come in?’ I hear Henry’s deep voice behind me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I look up from my work and see my ever so handsome sugar daddy in the doorway. He looks pretty tired, like he has been working non stop for days on end now. He is wearing a dark grey turtleneck, that is doing things to my panties.

These dirty dreams I’ve been having are not helping.

‘Henry!’ I exclaim, dropping the paper and the stapler, rushing up to him. I wrap my arms around his waist and as he pulls me in a hug, I place my chin on his strong chest. ‘You can always come in,’ I say. ‘I am so glad you are here. You should totally check out the way I’ve been organizing. It was kinda messy and I had written it down in a notebook, but I decided to transfer it to Excel. I never knew I would be such a sucker for Excel sheets.’ I grab his sleeve and drag him with me to my desk. ‘Look, this is the notebook and right here you see the sketch of how I want it to look like and then I put it in these— Henry, why are you laughing at me?’

He shakes his head. ‘I’m not laughing at you.’

‘What are you doing then?’

‘I’m proud of you.’ He places his hand in the back of my neck and says: ‘I can always smile in adoration, can’t I?’

 _Adoration?_ Because of me? I can’t hide my blush. ‘You can,’ I mumble. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’

‘I was checking up on my favorite employee,’ he says, adding a simply shrug. ‘I also feel like I haven’t seen you in such a long time.’

‘That’s true,’ I say. ‘I might’ve slightly missed you.’

He raises his eyebrows. ‘Oh, really now?’

‘Yeah, just a little bit,’ I confess. ‘Admit it: you missed me too.’

‘I did,’ he chuckles. ‘You ready to get out of here?’

‘Almost,’ I say. ‘Maybe you can help me out? Those boxes need to go over there.’ I point to the cabinet and while I could do it, I feel like it would be a lot easier if Henry did it. Besides that would be quite the treat for the eye, but that’s a side issue. ‘Then I can finish this file and after that I’m all set and done and we could get out of here.’

He nods and immediately gets to work. He carries the boxes like it’s nothing and I have to try and not get severely distracted by him carrying around those carton boxes.

But boy, do his arms look enormous and strong and totally delicious.

Once everything is in place, Henry grabs my bag and together we walk out of the archives towards the elevator. ‘Where are you taking me?’ I ask him.

‘Wherever you want to go,’ he says. We get in the elevator and he presses the button with the P on it, leading us to the parking lot underneath the building. He places his hand on my shoulder, furthest from him and asks if I have any ideas.

‘We could go for a late lunch,’ I suggest. ‘If you don’t mind, of course.’

‘A late lunch it is,’ Henry says.

He drives us to this nice new place I’ve never heard about and we’re seated on the upper floor, watching over the city. Henry and I sit next to each other. We’re that close that our thighs touch. I know I said to him I only slightly missed him, but as we’re sitting here, I realized I missed him a lot more than I’d like to admit.

‘I am going really well with my book,’ I say.

‘Really?’ he asks me. ‘Are you finally gonna tell me what it’s about?’

I shake my head. ‘No, still not gonna to share.’

‘I’m almost thinking about paying you less until you tell me.’

I fake gasp. ‘You wouldn’t.’

‘No, I wouldn’t,’ he chuckles. ‘Just messing with you. As if I could ever say no to you.’ He places his hand on the backrest of my chair and his thumb drawing circles on my shoulder. ‘Have I already told you, that you look very pretty today?’

I look down at my light blue dress, one that I bought a few days ago with Genevieve and Viola on our shopping spree. ‘No,’ I whisper. ‘And you don’t have to do that either.’

He frowns. ‘Why not, darling?’

‘Because I don’t feel beautiful.’

Henry sighs deeply. ‘Shame,’ he says. ‘Because you have every reason to feel beautiful.’ He takes a sip of his espresso and thankfully changes the subject by saying: ‘Wanna go shopping after lunch?’

I chuckle. He knows exactly how to cheer me up. ‘Shopping for what?’

‘Well, Christmas shopping for example. I should know what you want, right?’

I shouldn’t blush, but I still do anyways. ‘You’re thinking about spending Christmas with me?’

He clears his throat. ‘I was wondering if maybe we could.’

I shrug, while internally I am screaming with excitement. Spending Christmas with Henry instead of alone? I’ll take it. ‘Sure, I mean, I don’t have other plans anyway,’ I try to say, as casual as possible. ‘My friends are gonna spend it with family and I… I don’t have that.’

‘Does that bother you?’

I shake my head. ‘I feel like it would bother me to actually spend time with them. Be basically obligated to pretend nothing bad has ever happened to us.’ A flood of memories of my mom yelling at me, my dad slamming the door in my face, my siblings doing everything they possibly can to make my life even more miserable. ‘Don’t you want it to spend it with family, though?’

‘No,’ he simply says.

I wonder what his family situation is like. I never heard him talk about his parents. Are they not around? Deceased?

‘So, it’s a deal then, we’re Christmas together,’ Henry says, not giving me a chance to ask him about his family situation.

‘Yes, it’s a deal. I’m already working on my gifts for you.’

‘No,’ he sternly says, ‘you don’t have to do that.’

‘Of course I’m gonna do that,’ I laugh. ‘It’s Christmas, silly.’

‘Becky, you don’t need to buy me gifts.’

‘I already know what I’m gonna get you, so you’re getting it anyway. Promise me you’ll accept it.’

He sighs deeply, before he lets out a chuckle. ‘I will gracefully accept it, darling, don’t you worry,’ he says.

For a brief moment I wonder what people around us think. While Henry is really handsome for someone who is 46, thus nearing the fifty, it must be obvious to everyone that there is an age gap between us. It also must be obvious that maybe I am his sugar baby, because why would a man like Henry be around a girl like me?

I look at my hands, as I nervously pick my nails, my mind on overdrive, with worries and doubts.

Henry places his heavy hand on mine, causing me to meet his gaze. He smiles, almost as if he wants to make me feel better, without me telling him about my worries. Maybe he feels the same.

‘Thank you,’ I say nearly breathless.

‘Of course, Becky,’ he says. ‘Everything for you.’

##  _December 10th 10 p.m._

‘So, you are one hundred percent positive your daddy can’t join us today?’ Viola asks, as we are all sitting in our pajamas around the coffee table in my apartment.

It’s useless to remind them to stop calling him daddy and simply refer to him as Henry, so I stopped doing that all together. I almost got used to it, not gonna lie. ‘Yes, he has a lot of things to do,’ I say. ‘According to him, it’s always very busy in December.’

Viola nods. ‘So, what did you get him for Christmas?’

They screamed when I told them I was gonna spend Christmas with him and they continued to bug me about the fact we were already such a couple. Sure, I was excited as well, but that was mostly because I don’t have to spend it alone.

Not because we are such a couple.

‘Well, I got him a new watch,’ I say. ‘It’s really beautiful. He always has watches in more darker shades, but I felt like a golden watch would look really good on him, especially with the matching cufflinks I bought him.’

‘Look at our Becky,’ Genevieve says, as she wraps her arm around my shoulders. ‘Shopping like a rich person. It’s like you were made for this lifestyle.’

‘Shut up,’ I chuckle. ‘It’s not me buying it for him though. Basically Henry is paying for these gifts himself.’ I run my fingers through my hair as I take a sip of my wine. It’s always like this when Genevieve, Viola and I have a sleepover. Wine, chips, pajamas and non stop talking.

_I love spending my nights like this._

‘I also made him something,’ I say.

‘Let me guess,’ Genevieve interrupts me. This can’t be good. ‘You recorded yourself masturbating with your vibrator and a dildo identical to his manhood, moaning ‘daddy Henry’ as you orgasm.’

_I hate her sometimes._

‘No,’ I groan. ‘Never mind, I’m not telling you about it.’

‘Come on,’ Viola laughs, ‘we’re just messing with you. Tell us, what did you make him?’

I am such a pushover, I give in way too easily. ‘A photo album of us in Paris. We made so many pictures, it’s a shame if they just sit on our phones.’

‘You are so romantic,’ Genevieve notes. ‘I mean, admit it: you are totally falling for him.’

‘No, I’m not,’ I retort.

While the two of them end up in a discussion about when exactly I will admit my true feelings about him (that will be never), my phone rings and I check the screen.

 **Henry:** January 4th I have a business meeting.

 **Henry:** It’s at night and I know that’s way passed your bedtime

 **Henry:** But to make it up to you, you don’t have to work January 5th.

 **Becky:** And you’re just automatically assuming I’m joining you?

 **Henry:** Of course 😉

 **Henry:** If you don’t kill my business partners, I’ll pay you double

 **Becky:** You sure know how to persuade me

‘Oh, Gen, would you look at that,’ Viola squeals. ‘Exhibit A of Becky falling for her sugar daddy. That smile on her face as she is probably texting him.’

‘I am not falling for him,’ I defend myself.

Clearly it doesn’t have any effect, because they both start laughing. ‘Hear me out,’ Genevieve says, ‘as I present to you exhibit B of Becky falling for her sugar daddy: she’s making him a photo album.’

I glare at Genevieve. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Just because I’m making that for him, doesn’t automatically mean that I am falling for him.’

Genevieve and Viola exchange looks. ‘Honey,’ Viola then says, ‘we know you. You only go out of your way for someone, when you genuinely like them. Also, you talk non stop about the guy and when you two barely saw each other, you were sad and actually missed him.’

‘Not funny,’ I say, drinking some wine, because they may be right, though I don’t want to admit it.

‘Still not over the fact you didn’t buy any lingerie and showed him in Paris,’ Genevieve says. ‘Such a missed opportunity. If you actually did that, you two were totally boning now, mark my words.’

‘I don’t want sex with my sugar daddy,’ I say.

‘Liar,’ Viola exclaims. ‘Everyone wants to have sex with your sugar daddy. Besides, he totally sees you as more than a sugar baby. You told us that his bestie Peter told you that daddy Henry was sold the second he saw your picture. He continuously tells you that you deserve this lifestyle, that he wants to show you the world and that you’re beautiful. You don’t do that for just a sugar baby.’

I blush, because… Is that true? I don’t want to further think about it, so I get up and ask: ‘Who wants some more chips?’

##  _December 15th 8 p.m._

Today I spend my night at Henry’s place. It’s also actually the first time I’m at his penthouse and I would lie if I said I liked the way he decorated it. It’s plain, lot of darker colors, all more on the neutral side. I mean, to each their own, sure. I just wish the place was a bit more vibrant, with colored details for example.

I walk on my socks over the soft carpet and am very tempted to do a cartwheel, because there is room enough. I take a deep breath in preparation for showing off my gymnastic talents, when Henry sneaks up behind me and places his hands on my hips. ‘Dinner is ready, darling.’

I let out a squeal. ‘What did you make?’ I ask him.

‘Beef bourguignon,’ he says. ‘Because it has come to my attention that my barbaric sugar baby has never had that.’

I turn around to slap him on his chest. ‘That’s totally not funny,’ I say, though I can’t hide my chuckle.

He smiles and walks with me to the dining table. He pulls out my chair and once I sit, he disappears into the kitchen, telling me to wait. I wiggle my feet, patiently waiting for him to serve us dinner.

He places our plates on the table and sits down as well. ‘ _Bon appetite_ ,’ he says.

‘We barbarics tend to say: dig in.’

The food is absolutely exquisite and Henry only becomes more and more desirable. I’ve known him since December and I have yet to discover something he cannot do. There must be something this man can’t do, right?

I eat like I haven’t eaten in days. ‘It’s delicious,’ I note.

‘Glad you like it.’ He holds out his hand and with his thumb, he wipes the corner of my mouth clean. ‘You pig.’

‘First I’m a barbaric sugar baby, now I’m a pig,’ I sum up. ‘Henry, December is supposed to be festive. Why are you being mean to me then?’ I pout.

‘Don’t make that face,’ he says. ‘I’m feeling sorry for you now.’

‘That means it working.’

He smiles and gets up to grab dessert. Can’t believe he prepared that too. Henry sure knows the easiest way to my heart: ice cream with way too much chocolate sauce on it. 

‘So,’ I say, grabbing my spoon, ‘did you buy me a present yet? For Christmas?’

Henry nods. ‘I have,’ he says.

‘What is it?’

‘I’m not gonna tell you.’

I sigh as if I’m annoyed. ‘Gosh, I hate you.’

Henry sticks out his tongue, causing me to laugh. ‘Tell me this then, what did you buy me?’

‘I’m not gonna tell you,’ I say in a mocking tone. ‘It’s a two way street, Cavill.’

I don’t think I’ll be able to eat until this time tomorrow. I think I might’ve overate. I say to Henry I’m going to the bathroom, as he cleans up the dishes.

The second I sit on the toilet, I discover the horrible.

I just got my period.

And I’m at Henry’s.

Without my pads.

After a quick check, I see I haven’t leaked through my pants nor my underwear (imagine me bleeding on his chairs with the white seat covers! Oh no, only the idea makes me die of embarrassment), but time is ticking. I put some toilet paper between my legs, yank up my pants and quickly flush the toilet. I just need to go to my own place, get myself some pads and he’ll never notice.

Unless of course he asks me what I’m going to do and he is the type of guy that would do that.

If I say I am going to get some painkillers, he’ll say that he has some. If I say I want something different to wear, he suggests going up my apartment to get me some or he’d offer me his clothes.

As I’m contemplating how I should respond to it, my legs walk me out of the bathroom and I see him just finishing up putting everything in the dishwasher.

‘I need to go to my own place.’

‘Why?’ Henry asks.

I clear my throat. ‘I need to get something.’

‘What is it? I can get it for you, if I don’t have it here already.’

I know him too damn well. ‘No, no,’ I say, but I fear I know I’m not going to talk myself out of this. ‘I can walk myself.’

Henry opens his mouth and he has this look in his eyes that is such a prediction of what he is going to say next, so I interrupt him. ‘Henry, I just need to get my pads, because I just got my period and do you really want to go through my bathroom cabinet and accidentally see the vibrator I keep there?’

I shouldn’t have said that. Well, the first part was okay, not my best work of course, but that last part… That’s where it went downhill. I stammer a bit, but I can’t seem to speak out any syllables. Let alone words that could form a decent sentence.

Henry doesn’t seem fazed at all, because he only nods. ‘I’ll be right back,’ he says, as he grabs my keys and walks out of the penthouse.

Is this the moment where I realize I am involved in something with a man and not a boy? Is this that exact moment? I mean, I once dropped a tampon in class and all the boys acted like I dropped a hand grenade.

My brain can’t seem to wrap itself around what just happened.

There is only one thing I really regret and that is mentioning I have a vibrator. But maybe he doesn’t mind? I mean, he didn’t seemed bothered by me mentioning that I’m on my period and in need of pads, let alone me mentioning I own a vibrator. Maybe he thinks it’s very sexually liberating of me to have a sex toy.

Masturbation is only normal. I bet he masturbates. I feel like he is too rich to use a sock. Maybe he has one of those things. What are they called again? It feels like a vagina…

A fleshlight! That’s the word.

Oh, I could look around, to see if I find— Oh dear gosh, he is back, just like my conscious telling me not to snoop around.

‘I brought back a few,’ he says, holding up three pads. ‘Here you go.’

I don’t detect a blush, nor a nervous twitch near his eye meaning… Meaning what?

He wasn’t fazed by my pads nor my vibrator?

This man…

‘Thanks,’ I say, as I take them out of his hands. ‘I’ll be right back.’

‘I didn’t know if you wanted a change of clothes,’ he says, ‘and it seemed rude to go through your closet, but if you want you can wear some of mine.’

This is the moment where I perish. That is honestly one of the most domestic things ever. Me in his clothes? ‘Yeah, that would be nice,’ I whisper. I walk towards the bathroom again, placing the other two pads on the cabinet.

Once I exchanged the toilet paper for a pad, I hear a knock on the door. When I open it, I see Henry with some folded clothes in his hands. ‘Here you go, it might be a bit more comfortable.’

‘Thanks,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’ll be right out.’

I change into his clothes and I can’t even deny the fact that I look adorable. I roll up the bottom of his grey sweats and with floppy sleeves I rush to the couch, where Henry’s already trying to pick a movie.

I sit next to him and without looking at him I say: ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ he chuckles. ‘You look precious.’

‘Shut up,’ I say with a smile, totally not minding that he called me precious.

During the movie, I can’t seem to find a good way to sit. Without even thinking about it, I place my head on his thigh. Henry doesn’t respond, making me believe he might not like this, but then he covers me with a blanket, placing on hand on my upper arm and the other on top of my head, his thumb drawing soft circles on my scalp.

For a moment I forget we’re in contract with each other. The fact I get money to spend time with him. I look up, only to see him staring at the screen, all of his concentration focused on what’s happening.

Could I see myself falling for Henry? Eventually dating him? But even if we would ever date, would we mind the way people look at us? Would we ourselves mind the age gap between us? It’s not just five years difference, not ten, but a whole twenty four years. Nearly a quarter of a century.

I gently squeeze my hand between the couch and his thigh, as I try to focus on the movie.

_It’s just not working._

I can’t stop thinking about us, which is annoying, because I know that him being in my life as my sugar daddy is only temporary.

It just doesn’t help that I am so comfortable around him and the way he acts towards me. He does all the things I never experienced in life. Not by my family, not by any flings. I’ve never felt worthy, smart or beautiful.

Unless I’m with him.

I hate Genevieve and Viola for putting these thoughts in my head.

I sit up straight and rub my eyes.

‘What’s wrong?’ Henry asks.

‘Just changing my posture,’ I say, stretching out my back. I want to scoot closer to him, to curl up against his side and be engulfed in his arms. I almost do it.

But I can’t, as something blocks my brain, therefore my body.

He only then holds out his arm, an invitation for me to lean against him.

‘Sure?’ I ask him, as I sit closer to him.

He nods. ‘Very sure.’

And that’s all it takes for me to place my head on his shoulder and wrap my arm around his waist.

It’s only temporary.

##  _December 25th 4 p.m._

‘It’s the most wonderful time of the year,’ I sing, probably in the wrong key when Henry opens the door of his penthouse. ‘So, what do you think?’ I ask. ‘I dressed up all Christmasy for the occasion.’ I spin around and let out a laugh. It’s a dark green dress, with white ruffles at the hem and sleeves. I thought it was cute and perfect for Christmas.

Henry smiles. ‘You look lovely. Especially with those slippers.’

I look at my feet. ‘I was too lazy to put on shoes.’

‘I think they’re cute and I might want a pair of my own,’ Henry says, stepping aside.

I walk into his penthouse and when I reach the living room, I see he has a decorated Christmas tree in the corner. ‘When did you get that?’

‘Three days ago,’ he says. ‘It’s not a real one, because of the carpet.’

‘Why didn’t you let me know?’ I ask him. ‘I could’ve helped you decorate it.’

‘There you go again with the pouting,’ Henry says.

I chuckle. ‘You should feel bad,’ I say. ‘I haven’t decorated a tree in years.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asks. ‘We could’ve bought one for you.’

 _We_. This shouldn’t make me giggly, but it does. ‘I don’t know. I figured you didn’t want one either. Besides, I wanted to buy one, but then I had to drag it with me for around an hour to bring it back home.’

‘You should’ve told me,’ he says.

I want to say something, but I can’t. What can I say to that? _I’m sorry?_ It’s too late for that. _We could get one now?_ It’s too late for that as well.

‘Want something to drink?’ Henry asks.

‘Hot chocolate,’ I answer, as I place my bag with presents underneath the tree, where I also spot three packed packages that are probably for me.

_I can’t wait._

It has been awhile since I celebrated Christmas and the shelter might’ve been the last time. I never was able to afford anything and I even pretended for a long time I wasn’t into Christmas, when in reality I was just too poor to buy myself something, let alone someone else.

I follow Henry to the kitchen and I stand next to him. I watch how he is stirring in a pan and I look up to him. ‘What is it, darling?’ Henry asks.

‘Thank you,’ I say, ‘for spending Christmas with me. It has been a while since I last spend Christmas.’

He looks to the side and smiles. ‘It has been a while for me too,’ he says in a soft tone.

‘Why?’

‘Too busy.’

‘Aren’t you too busy now?’

He shakes his head. ‘When it comes to you, I’m never too busy.’

I bite my lip as I walk to the fridge, grabbing some whipped cream. When I stand next to him again, I can’t help but let my eyes wander over his arms. It’s the black turtleneck that accentuates his torso and well shaped arms. I wonder how much Henry works out to maintain this physic, especially because he already works a lot and spends a lot of time with me.

He puts some whipped cream on top of the drink after he poured it in and hands it to me. ‘I’ll be right out,’ he says.

I walk back to the tree and sit close to it. I take a sip of my hot chocolate and shivers run down my spine, the good kind. It’s delicious. I hate that there isn’t something that Henry can’t do. I bet he made a fantastic Christmas dinner and it’s so unfair that he is good at everything, on top of being good looking.

No wonder he is so successful.

He walks into the living room and sits next to me, with his back against the couch. He stretches out his legs, causing me to chuckle when I see the difference in our legs.

‘It’s good,’ I say to him. ‘I hate you for being talented at everything.’

He smiles. ‘I’m not talented at everything.’

‘Tell me something you’re not good at then.’

‘You’ll find out one day,’ he chuckles. ‘Want to open up your gifts?’

I nod and I place my mug on the coffee table, needing me to place my hand on his thigh, to lean over him. I get up to grab the three gifts wrapped in a lightish pink color. Not very Christmasy, very me though. When I sit close to him again, I cross my legs and ask: ‘All for me?’

He nods. ‘All for you.’

The first present is a bracelet, one that matches the necklace he gave me in Paris. Together with the ring, I wear the necklace daily, because I love them that much. Henry helps me to put on the bracelet and says: ‘I bought it back in Paris, but I feared that you would be a bit overwhelmed if I gave it to you then.’

‘Thank you,’ I say, as I look at the golden bracelet. ‘It’s beautiful.’

The second and third present are a notebook and an entire stationary set, with washi tape, stickers, different colors of pens. This shouldn’t make me teary eyed, but it still does anyway. ‘You remembered,’ I chuckle, when I see the notebook with the sky and stars as cover. When we went shopping in the beginning of December, I showed him this one. It was severely overpriced, but I told him about how I would look up at the sky when I was in the shelter, staring at the stars and that it always made me feel safe.

And now he bought it for me.

‘Of course I remembered,’ he says.

‘I love it, Henry.’ I look up, but my vision is a bit blurry. Oh no, you baby, you’re not crying because of this. ‘I’m sorry,’ I chuckle, as I try dry my eyes.

He chuckles, as his thumb runs over my cheek, to wipe away the left over tears. ‘Don’t feel sorry for this,’ he says. ‘It lets me know you love the present.’

‘I do,’ I say. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and whisper a soft ‘thank you’ in his ear. I let out a nervous laugh when I pull back, before I actually burst into tears. Henry tilts his head, before he gives me my hot chocolate.

I sometimes wonder, how this man understands me so well. If he had met me in different circumstances, would he still be talking to me? Would he still appreciate me for who I am? Is that really what he is doing right now? Does he care?

I take a sip of my drink and I fear I’m getting in my head. All these questions run through my mind. Why does he spend Christmas with me? Doesn’t he have other people to spend it with? Is it because he feels sorry for me for spending it alone?

‘Darling, what’s wrong?’ he asks.

‘Nothing,’ I say, but my voice cracks. I sigh deeply. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Always.’

‘Don’t you want a family?’ I ask him. ‘Like a family of your own? Wife, kids, dogs, I don’t know.’

Henry places his hand on my knee. ‘Eventually,’ he says, ‘but I am in no rush.’

‘Why not?’

‘I can have kids for awhile,’ he says. ‘Besides, I… I haven’t met the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.’

I shouldn’t be disappointed, yet I feel disappointed. I curse my brain for thinking about all those scenarios, where Henry falls in love with me, proposes to me and marries me. The stuff that would never happen. ‘Hm, I see.’

‘Besides, how do I explain our agreement to my wife?’

‘You’ve got a point,’ I chuckle, but that is more to hide my pain. Aren’t I the one who keeps bugging him about how December is a festive month? Why am I killing the mood?

‘How about you?’ Henry asks. ‘Do you want a family?’

‘Eventually, I guess so,’ I say. ‘I just fear that I am gonna be a horrible mom.’

‘Why would you say that?’ he asks me, before removing his hand from my knee, to place it on my back.

‘I’ve had the most terrible example,’ I say. ‘I spend my time in juvie, I was nearly homeless. Those aren’t qualities for a good mom.’

‘Why would that make you a horrible mother?’ Henry asks. ‘You know what does and does not work when raising your own children. You know how to survive in the real world. Besides, you are the cutest anyways,’ he says, ‘your kids and all their friends will absolutely love you.’

I blush, as I let out a chuckle ‘I am so sorry, I’m turning this into an impromptu therapy session and you don’t pay me for that. I was just wondering if you shouldn’t be spending Christmas with the people you love, people who you are friends with, people that are important.’

I hate myself for not listening to my own ‘December is supposed to be festive’ statement.

‘I’m spending my Christmas with you,’ he says, ‘for the same reason I spend my time with you. I am lonely.’

‘But shouldn’t a girlfriend help then?’ I ask him. ‘Or friends?’

‘It’s hard to make friends or meet someone, when you have the amount of money I have,’ Henry states. ‘When you and I met, I knew one thing: the only reason we were even on this date, was because you needed money and I had that. It’s just that I really like it when you are around.’

‘I like being around you too,’ I admit. ‘Money or not. I really owe you big time.’

He smiles. ‘You don’t owe me anything, darling.’

There is so much I want to say to him, starting with an apology, but the second I open my mouth, Henry says: ‘Don’t apologize.’

Is he a mindreader?

‘Why not?’

‘Just because you showed me what’s going on inside your heart and mind, doesn’t mean you owe me an apology. I get that it can be hard,’ he says, ‘to show people your worries, your fears.’

‘I just sound so whiney when I do,’ I say.

‘You sound sincere, genuine.’ Henry tilts his head and says: ‘We can stop talking about it if you want. I could open my gifts for example.’

I simply nod, not sure how to respond to him. I hate that he is so caring and lovely about this. Back home I could never tell my parents the stuff that was pressing on my heart, let alone in juvie or at the shelter.

I grab the gift bag from behind me and scoot closer to him. ‘Merry Christmas.’

‘Thank you, darling.’ He pulls out the one on top, which are the watch and cufflinks. He carefully peels off the wrapping paper and smiles. ‘This is amazing,’ he says as he looks at the watch. ‘I have yet to own a gold one, let alone one with matching cufflinks.’ He holds out his arm and gently pulls me in a hug.

It’s these types of physical affection that make me rethink this entire agreement. Not because I don’t like it, but because I feel some slipping from my side. I feel connecting, in a way I didn’t think was allowed. This is supposed to be a business arrangement, right? Not with this emotional connection.

‘I have another gift for you,’ I say, as I pull back.

‘Really? Darling, you already got me a watch and cuff links. That’s enough.’

‘No, this is different. I barely spend any money on it.’

He cocks an eyebrow, before carefully pulling away the wrapping paper. ‘What’s this?’

‘A photo album,’ I say with a smile. ‘We made a lot of pictures in Paris and I thought to compile them and… Oh no, this is too much isn’t it?’ I ask, when I sense his lack of reaction. ‘I mean, especially with what we have… Oh, I crossed a line, I’m sorry. Damn it, I’ll just—’

‘What are you talking about?’ Henry asks, as he flips the pages, looking at the pictures. ‘I love it.’

 _Huh?_ ‘You do?’

‘Yes,’ he says. ‘It’s not crossing a line, don’t you worry about that.’ He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his body. ‘Thank you, darling.’

I am confused. ‘You like it?’

‘I love it.’ He smiles and says: ‘I’m such a good photographer. The model is okay, but me…’

‘Oh, we’re being mean again,’ I say with a laugh, as I shove his side. ‘It’s Christmas, Henry, be nice.’

He chuckles. ‘Sorry.’

I place my head against his shoulder, ignoring all those and say: ‘You really like it?’

‘I totally love it. You know, Becky, I like spending my Christmas like this.’

I nod. ‘Yeah, me too.’


	5. january

##  _January 1st 3 a.m._

**Becky:** Happy New Year, Henry 🥰

 **Henry:** Happy New Year, darling

 **Becky:** Could you maybe do me a favor?

 **Henry:** What?

 **Becky:** Could you pick me up?

 **Becky:** I’m at this party, but the cabs look pretty… Sketchy.

 **Becky:** And I’m kinda scared and want to go home

 **Henry:** Share your location, I’ll be right there.

✤ ✤ ✤

‘Thank you for picking me up,’ I say when I sit next to Henry in his car, as I play with the hem of my skirt.

‘Of course,’ he says. ‘I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to text me.’

‘I didn’t wake you, right?’ I ask.

‘I was working, so…’

‘You were working on New Years Day? You have to take more day offs, Henry,’ I chuckle. ‘Let that be your New Years resolution.’

He smiles. ‘Did you enjoy tonight?’

I shrug. ‘I guess so,’ I whisper.

‘The party wasn’t fun?’ he asks.

‘It was. Before and after twelve o’clock it was a lot fun. Drinking, playing some games, spending time with my friends. Nearly making Gen a promise I would French kiss her into the new year,’ I chuckle. ‘It’s just that shift from one year to another that’s hard,’ I say, as I stare out of the car. ‘I haven’t spend that moment with anyone since I was fourteen.’

‘Why not?’

‘There is no one I can spend it with,’ I say. ‘Besides, it’s easier to be alone. Even when I’m with my friends, I can’t watch them kiss their boyfriends into the New Year. Gosh, it’s only three hours into the new year and I’m already depressed. Fuck, I’m sorry.’

‘Must’ve been hard,’ he says, as he parks the car.

I shake my head, shrug and say: ‘Doesn’t matter. I was just being a party pooper. Tell me, what are your new years resolutions?’

Henry smiles. ‘Spoiling you.’

I roll my eyes. ‘You must have hobbies or other things. A life outside of me.’

‘I don’t.’ I’m not sure if this is a joke or not, but I let out a laugh anyway. ‘What are yours?’

I smile. ‘Enjoy my life,’ I say. ‘I have every reason to be happy.’

‘You do,’ Henry confirms and he gets out of the car, telling me to wait. Together we walk towards my room and when we stop in front of my door, I say: ‘Happy New Year, Henry.’

‘Happy New Year, darling,’ he says with a smile. ‘I’m taking you shopping on the fourth,’ he says. ‘Your schedule is entirely free.’

‘Thank you, boss.’ I blink my eyes and wrap my arms around his waist. ‘You know, if you’d asked, I would’ve spend New Years with you.’

‘You would?’ he asks me.

I nod. ‘Yeah and I might’ve stayed with you at twelve o’clock.’ I place my chin on his chest and say: ‘Talk to you later, Henry.’

‘Later, Becky.’

##  _January 4th 11 p.m._

Henry took me shopping for tonight’s meeting and after I tried on a few dresses, I figured the red dress was exactly what I’ve always wanted to wear at least once in my life. It’s a tight dress, with spaghetti straps and cups on the inside, so the world doesn’t know how cold I am while I’m braless. The high red heels match perfectly and thankfully I can continue wearing the jewelry. I haven’t taken them off since Paris. ‘I look perfect to be your arm candy,’ I admit, as we walk towards the club. We parked the car somewhere else and have to walk for around ten minutes. That’s okay, I like walking next to Henry, especially when he has his arm tightly wrapped around my shoulder, giving me additional warmth the coat doesn’t give me. I snake my arm around his waist, as I stare at some people in line, who are desperate to go in. Some are more intoxicated than others and despite it looking pretty sleazy, I can totally see myself in that line with Genevieve and Viola, hoping to get in (to actually stay outside the entire night.

However, now Henry and I simply walk passed it.

‘You look perfect,’ he says.

‘What am I supposed to do?’ I ask him. ‘Sit there, be pretty?’

He smiles. ‘Well, it’s just me having boring business talks in the VIP suite. room. If you want, you can stay with me, but I think they are bringing their,’—he gives me a look, indicating they brought their sugar babies—‘and maybe you want to hang out with them and dance.’

Meeting other sugar babies? Oh, I never expected that to happen.

‘Oh okay,’ I say.

‘And if you go down to dance, let me know.’ Henry leans in towards my ear and whispers: ‘So I can keep an eye on you.’

‘I’m a grown woman, Henry,’ I chuckle.

‘I know, I know,’ he says, letting out a laugh. ‘But I don’t want anything to happen to you. That’s it.’

We’re nearing the entrance and Henry looks at the bouncer, before holding up his ID. Without blinking, the bouncer lets us in and I hear the groans of the people behind the line.

‘That’s not fair!’

‘I want to go in.’

‘He is so handsome, oh my.’

‘Is she with him? I love her dress.’

The music is deafening by the time we walk in, but Henry holds out his hand. When I take it, we walk up the stairs. The rumblings of the music quickly quiet down and when we’re in the VIP suite, I see two man who are nearing decomposing and two women my age, maybe a bit older.

For a moment I think to myself how degrading this actually is. Young women, in the prime of their life, stuck here with those old man, all because of money, but then I realize I do the exact same thing.

This isn’t something to be ashamed about it, right. We’re two consenting adults. I need money, Henry needs company.

It’s a nice deal.

‘Henry,’ one of the men says, patting the woman on her leg. She gets up from his lap and walks towards the bar.

Henry holds up his hand and says to me: ‘You can leave your coat with me.’ He helps me out of the black velvet coat and asks if I have everything I need.

I nod. ‘Can you keep him waiting?’ I ask Henry.

‘For you?’ he asks with a smile, brushing some hairs out of my face. ‘I can leave everyone waiting for you. If you need anything, just tell me, okay?’

I nod. ‘Okay.’

‘Enjoy, darling.’

I smile at him and walk towards the bar, joining the two other women. I sit next to the one who sat on that guy’s lap. ‘Hi,’ I softly say.

‘Hi,’ they say in unison. They look a lot more mature than I do, I think to myself. Does that say something about them or me? Me probably. ‘You’re with Henry?’

I nod. ‘I am.’

The one with the bright red hair nods. ‘I never knew he was into the whole sugar baby/daddy thing. If I’d only knew, I would’ve traded in mine for Henry in a heartbeat.’ She smiles at me. ‘I’m Rachel and I’m with the bearded guy.’

The fossil? Oh dear, I’m so not jealous.

‘And I’m Lucy,’ the other girl says, who jumped off the other man’s lap. ‘And I’m with the other grandpa.’

‘I’m Becky,’ I say. ‘Nice to meet you.’

Lucy nods. ‘Your daddy is so handsome, I’m actually jealous.’

My cheeks flush. Thankfully it’s dim here, because I could’ve sworn my face turned into a tomato. ‘Oh,’ I chuckle. ‘He is quite handsome, yes.’

Rachel nods. ‘So, how is sex with him?’

I nearly choke in my own spit. She sure didn’t wait with that question. ‘What?’ I ask them.

Rachel gasps, as Lucy blinks. ‘You do have sex with him, right?’ Rachel asks.

I shake my head. ‘No, we agreed we wouldn’t do that. You have sex with… yours?’

‘Yeah,’ they say. ‘It’s part of our agreement,’ Lucy adds. ‘Honestly, it’s a shame you don’t have sex with Henry. I bet it would be amazing.’

I cannot believe they have sex with their sugar daddies. If I were in their shoes. I’d throw up probably. Maybe it’s a shame that I don’t have sex with Henry. He seems like the type of man that would chase after my pleasure, not his own.

But I shouldn’t think too much about that, right?

Rachel must sense this all makes me very uncomfortable, because she asks: ‘How long have you been doing this?’

‘Since the end of September,’ I say. ‘How about you?’

‘I think I’m nearing my eight month anniversary,’ Lucy says.

‘A little over a year,’ Rachel answers.

‘Do you like it?’ I ask them.

They laugh and I wonder I just asked the stupidest question of all time. ‘It’s a job, honey,’ Rachel says. ‘I don’t think it’s awful, but it’s not great, like any other job.’

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘I actually enjoy it. Henry is really sweet and lovely. We even spend Christmas together.’

‘You spend Christmas together?’ Lucy asks, her eyes nearly rolling out of her sockets. ‘I am shocked.’

‘Why?’

‘They only want us around for either sex or moments like these,’ Rachel explains, while looking passed me. ‘Oh wait, he wants something.’ She gets up from the stool and walks over to the man who looks at least seventy. She plops on his lap and I hear a faint ‘daddy’.

‘You call yours ‘daddy’ too?’ I ask Lucy.

She nods. ‘He prefers that You don’t call Henry daddy? He sure looks like one.’

I hate that everyone keeps saying that, because the more I hear it, the more I agree.

‘I don’t do that,’ I admit. ‘I haven’t even asked if he wants that.’

‘You should totally ask him,’ Lucy says. ‘I bet he likes it. What is Henry like as your sugar daddy?’

‘He is very kind and generous,’ I say with a smile. ‘He offered me a job, got me an apartment. He even got me out of jail.’

Lucy nods in approval. ‘You sure he is your daddy and not your boyfriend?’ I want to respond to that, but then I hear a whistle and Lucy jumps off the stool.

Did that piece of shit actually whistled at her like a dog? And she responds to that? I am _appalled_. I get you do things out of your comfort zone once you are in this whole scene, but there is a line. If Henry whistled for me to drop everything and rush to his side, he got the wrong girl.

I look over my shoulder, only to see Henry looking at what is unfolding in front of him. There is slight groping, kissing with tongue and some other unappetizing deeds I don’t want to see.

Our eyes meet and he gets up before he walks towards the bar. He stands next to me and says, as he wraps his arm around my waist: ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll never whistle at you like that.’

I let out a chuckle. ‘I’m flabbergasted to say the least. You sure you want to do business with them?’

He snorts. ‘I am a bit hesitant,’ he says. He orders a whiskey and asks what I want. I order a red wine and Henry places a hundred on the counter.

I almost ask him about the daddy situation, whether or not he wants me to call him that, but I curl in my lips in. It’s not the setting for this. ‘I think if they are done, maybe we’ll go down to dance a little,’ I say.

‘Sure thing.’ He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear and smiles. ‘Just because we’re not like them, doesn’t mean we are inferior to them.’

I place my head on his shoulder and let out a sigh, as I nearly laugh at how well he actually knows me. ‘I’ll try and not compare us to them.’

‘Please, don’t.’

✤ ✤ ✤

Rachel, Lucy and I are on the dance floor. We’re in a small circle, holding each other’s hands as we sway our hips at the beat of the music. Rachel and Lucy are actually really nice. I mean, they are not like my other friends, but it’s nice to finally meet some girls who are on the same boat as me.

Rachel wraps her arm around my waist as she takes a sip of my wine. I pull Lucy closer to us and we sing to the melodies. It’s nice being in the club, however I do feel like we’re attracting guys our age.

_Which isn’t bad per se._

But… It feels wrong when I look back at them. When I return their smiles, when I run my fingers through my hair as they stare, maybe even wink at them. One of them smiles and proceed to walk up to me.

And I hate it.

It feels like cheating.

It’s not, I know that. I look away, to the VIP suite, only to see Henry. He is watching. He is seeing every move I make.

That guy places his hand on my back and I want to pull away, walk away, but it’s Rachel and Lucy who push me in his arms. Oh gosh, I don’t want this. His grabby hands are on my waist as he pulls me to his body. We dance like we know each other, but I don’t feel good.

This doesn’t feel good.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, ‘I’m with someone.’

‘I don’t see him,’ he says.

‘He is in VIP.’

The guy actually takes a few steps back and I look at the girls. ‘I’m upstairs,’ I mouth to them and they nod and smile, as I walk towards the stairs. I quickly go up and when I’m in the VIP suite again, I let out deep sigh. Henry smiles at me when his eyes land on me. He holds out his arm and I sit next to him. His arm is wrapped securely around my waist. ‘We should go,’ he says. ‘You’re tired and it’s passed your bedtime.’

I laugh as I roll my eyes. ‘We can stay here,’ I say. ‘Just need a breather.’

He tilts his head. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I am,’ I say, though it’s a lie. ‘Don’t mind me.’ I rest my head against his shoulder, as I contemplate as to what I should do. It felt so wrong, flirting like that with other men, while I shouldn’t feel weird. I am young, I am not in a relationship with Henry and therefore I shouldn’t feel awkward or guilty.

But why do I then?

Lucy and Rachel join us not long after and sit on their _daddies_ lap. I look at them and I sigh deeply. I hate that I feel like this. It’s nice that I got to meet girls who are in this as well. The VIP suite is great.

However, I still feel jealous, unsure about myself.

‘We’re going,’ Henry concludes. He gets up and tells me he is gonna grab my coat. I exchange numbers with Rachel and Lucy, before Henry and I are leaving this place. It’s silent when we walk to the car and even when we’re driving, I don’t open my mouth.

‘What’s wrong, darling?’ he asks, as he places his hand on my leg.

‘It’s nothing,’ I say.

‘There’s something,’ Henry retorts. ‘You’re a little distraught.’

I take a deep breath. ‘I was wondering if it’s considered cheating if I were involved with another guy. Not that I am,’ I quickly add. ‘But just hypothetically if I were sorta dating someone.’

Henry clears his throat. ‘Is it because of what happened on the dance floor?’

‘Nothing happened on the dance floor,’ I say, way too quick.

‘If you want to know,’ Henry says, ‘I don’t think it’s considered cheating. I would only be surprised if your future boyfriend would agree with what we have.’

I nod. ‘It’s not that I want to,’ I say. ‘Someone else. I kinda want to enjoy what we have now.’

He smiles. ‘Yeah, me too.’

I place my hand on his and lean my head against the headrest. ‘Are you going to do business with those men?’

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘They are great investors.’ His voice sounds flat. Is he mad at me?

‘Are we cool, Henry?’ I ask him.

He nods. ‘We’re cool,’ he says.

I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I decide to just take my chances with another thing that I have on my mind. ‘Can I ask you something else?’

‘Always,’ Henry says.

‘Do you mind that we don’t have sex? I mean, Rachel and Lucy do and they were very surprised when I told them that we didn’t and now I think it might be stupid that we don’t. I know I shouldn’t compare us to them, but is it really stupid of us not to do it? I mean, not that I want us to, because I really like what we have now. It’s not superficial or only about sex or showing off. It’s more than that. It’s like an actual friendship, one that I never had and I so appreciate it.’

I am rambling and not the good kind.

I pull my hand back from his and look out of the window. ‘Do you mind?’

‘It’s what we agreed on,’ he says. ‘I think you’re right: we shouldn’t compare what we have to what they have.’

Right. ‘True,’ I whisper. ‘I have another question.’

‘Ask me.’

‘It’s really awkward.’

He smiles. ‘You can ask me anything, darling.’

I take a deep breath and decide to just go for it. ‘Do you want me to call you daddy?’

I cannot believe this actually left my lips. Did I honestly just ask this? He is so gonna judge me for it.

However, when I finally look at him again, he doesn’t even seem slightly affected by the question at all.

‘Henry?’ I ask him.

‘Do you want to?’ he asks. ‘Call me daddy?’

When he says it like that, it makes the entire situation even worse. He is leaving the answer up to me? Why? No, no, I want a definite yes or no, not this counter question thing. It’s almost like I’m back at the police station after running for the cops for a few blocks. Always a question prepared for your questions.

‘I don’t know,’ I mumble.

‘Well,’ he says, ‘if you feel comfortable doing so, I wouldn’t mind in the slightest. If you don’t want to, I don’t mind either. It’s all up to you.’

It’s all up to me? Is he kidding me? I blink my eyes. I don’t even know if I was prepared for any answer, but certainly not this one.

‘What?’ Henry asks.

‘I was hoping for a yes or no answer,’ I say. ‘I’m not good at these kinds of decisions.’

He smiles. ‘Well, think about it first and I will patiently wait for your answer.’

##  _January 5th 11 a.m._

**Becky:** Guys, I have done something and I want to die now

 **Becky:** I asked the question

 **Viola:** Wait, what question?!?!

 **Becky:** If he wants me to call him daddy.

 **Viola:** Oh fuck

 **Genevieve:** Not that I’m complaining at all (I am loving the development, bravo Becky), but why on earth did you ask him that?

 **Becky:** Because Henry and I were at this party in the VIP suite and I met other sugar babies and they called their (unfortunate looking) sugar daddies DADDY!

 **Viola:** I still cannot believe you are in this type of world. You were at a VIP suite?

 **Genevieve:** Viola, who cares about that?

 **Genevieve:** The million dollar question is: what did he answer?

 **Becky:** If I feel comfortable doing so, he doesn’t mind. If I don’t, he doesn’t mind either. It’s all up to me!!!

 **Becky:** He should’ve just said yes or no.

 **Viola:** I say do it.

 **Becky:** This is the type of crap I expect from Gen.

 **Genevieve:** Hey!!! Don’t be mean.

 **Becky:** When he walked me to my room, he called me ‘baby’.

 **Becky:** He never did that

 **Genevieve:** He wants you to call him daddy

 **Becky:** I don’t know guys

 **Viola:** Well, if you are comfortable, just do it.

 **Genevieve:** He is totally up for it

 **Genevieve:** My bet is that you are gonna call him daddy this month

 **Viola:** Totally

 **Becky:** Don’t push it.

##  _January 6th 1 p.m._

I think I’m still hungover from those three wines I had and it has been quite some time. I rub my eyes as I wander through the city. The entirety of the fifth of January, I texted my friends, wondered about the whole daddy situation. Maybe I’m still hungover from that.

My phone rings and I see it’s Henry. It’s not only my day off, but also his, only he had to make a few business calls. He told me I could stay there, but I couldn’t. Felt so invasive and I decided to talk a walk. Maybe some fresh air would do me well.

‘Hello,’ I say as I pick up, ‘it’s getting pretty obvious that you cannot live without me, Cavill.’

Henry chuckles. ‘My secret’s out. Thought I was being pretty subtle.’

‘You’re not,’ I laugh.

‘You’re still in town?’ he asks.

I nod, only realizing he can’t see that. ‘Yes, I am. Why? Do you want me to pick something up for you? I can do that.’

‘I am actually out of eggs, chocolate and heavy cream. I wanted to make you something, but without the right ingredients, I can’t make it.’

‘Obviously,’ I say.

‘That was indeed pretty obvious, I’m sorry,’ he notes with a chuckle. ‘I’ll transfer some money over to you now.’

‘No, Henry,’ I say, as I take a detour to find the grocery store. That’ll take a while, I guess. ‘I can pay for this myself.’

‘But I like transferring money over to you. It’s like a sick tic. Comes with being your sugar daddy I guess.’

He says it so carelessly, like he didn’t just refer to himself as my sugar daddy. He is doing this on purpose, I think to myself. He wants me to call him daddy, otherwise he wouldn’t do this.

‘Well,’ I say, ‘you don’t have to do it. Henry, please, don’t transfer it, okay?’

‘No, I’m already doing it.’

I hear a notification coming in and I look at my screen.

> H. Cavill transferred **$500** to your bank account.
> 
> **Description** : For the groceries, baby

I’m ignoring the ‘baby’ part. ‘Henry,’ I exclaim in the phone, ‘the groceries are like ten dollars. I’m sending it back to you.’

‘No, for once, just accept it,’ he laughs.

I walk into the supermarket and I grab a basket. ‘I always accept your outrageous gifts, money or not,’ I chuckle. ‘You are such an idiot. I can’t believe my worst problem now is that you transfer too much money to me.’

‘It’s your life now, baby.’

 _Yeah, but for how long?_ ‘Eggs, chocolate and heavy cream you said, right?’

‘I did say that, indeed.’

I ignore the cockiness, though I kinda like it. ‘What kind of chocolate?’

‘Milk,’ he says.

I grab some chocolate bars and place them in the basket. ‘Is there something you can’t do?’ I ask him. ‘I mean, you’re again cooking for me. I feel like you haven’t done anything else these passed few days. What did I find in front of my door the other day? Not a simple casserole like the a suburban mom. Nope, millionaire you had to prepare a whole three course meal, with steak, and vegetables with sauce and all. I hate that you are good at everything.’

‘I can teach you how to cook,’ he says, ‘you know that. I’ve offered you that what? Like seven times already?’

I roll my eyes as I grab the eggs. ‘It’s nicer when someone else makes it for you. Besides, I can cook myself a decent egg. That’s all I need to know.’ I want to say something else, but my eyes land on a woman, who seems so oddly familiar. It doesn’t take long for more to join her.

A man around her age. A guy slightly older than me. A girl younger than me.

Nothing’s changed over these passed few years. They still do all the groceries like a sick quartet, when they’re all together. I used to be part of that too. It used to be a quintet, with me walking in the back.

_It’s my family._

‘I’ll talk to you later, okay?’ I ask him.

‘Sure. If you’re lost, just send me your location. I’ll pick you up.’

I smile. ‘Of course you do.’ I hang up the phone and wonder whether or not I should talk to them. It’s been so long.

They look so expensive.

Just like me.

I look down at my white sneakers, the Tommy Hilfiger jeans and the Chanel coat. My life is so different now. The last time they saw me, was when they disowned me. Officially disowned me. Didn’t acknowledge me anymore as their own. Told me to get lost, for ruining their family name.

I wasn’t their daughter or their sister anymore. I was not part of the Kim family.

_I became a nobody._

My brother Liam is the first one to spot me, frowning and nudging my sister Celine’s side. She crosses her arms as she gets this look on her face. I recognize it right away. It’s the face of trouble.

‘Well, well, well,’ Celine says with a smile when she is nearing me. ‘We were just talking about you, Rebecca,’ she tells me.

So much for a friendly hello. ‘What?’ I ask them. ‘Why?’

Liam, mom and dad also walk up to me and I feel like I’m not gonna win this, whatever this’ll bring me. _Is it too late to unsee them now?_

‘We were wondering who would whore herself out,’ Celine says. ‘Turns out, it would be you.’

I was not expecting this. ‘Excuse me, what?’

‘Yeah,’ Liam says, ‘I saw you at Eclipse on January fourth. I was in line to get in and you cut that same line with a tall and rich guy. I did a little favor for sack of gossiping with the family and it turned out he is Henry Cavill, a _single_ multi millionaire.’

‘And at first this loser thought you were actually dating him,’ Celine says, ‘but then I realized that you couldn’t possibly be beautiful enough or intelligent enough to get his attention.

For a nineteen year old, she is absolutely shameless and horrifying and she hasn’t changed over the years. She was thirteen when I was disowned.

‘Why on earth are you involved with him?’ mom asks, whose eyes have only hardened over the years. ‘Tell me, Rebecca.’

I shouldn’t obey. I shouldn’t tell her. I am not her daughter anymore. I don’t owe her anything. ‘I needed money,’ I say. ‘I was this close of being homeless. I had to do something to avoid sleeping in the alleys or under the bridge.’

‘And you are sleeping with an old man for that?’ mom asks.

‘I am not sleeping with him,’ I defend myself. ‘I just spend time with him in exchange for money.’

‘I thought I taught you better than that.’

She could’ve slapped me in the face. I shake my head out of disbelieve. ‘You never taught me anything,’ I tell her. I look at my dad and say: ‘I know you aren’t happy for me, but I was thinking that you could at least be happy that I’m not homeless.’

‘There was a reason we disowned you,’ mom says with a smug grin on her face, almost like she is proud of that. I wonder if I’m dead to them. If she says she two kids when she introduces herself to someone else. ‘You whore.’

Celine cocks an eyebrow and Liam chuckles, when I place the basket on the floor. ‘There she goes again,’ Liam chuckles. ‘She simply walks away when shit gets too hard.’

Maybe that’s true. I run when it gets too hard for me to handle. At least, I do that with my family.

My former family.

No family who loves one another, who would stick their hand into fire for the other, would say these things.

I brush passed them, including my dad, who just like always never butts in. He simply watches it all play out, as their words stab me like knifes. Tears well up in my eyes, as I rush out of the store.

I know this isn’t something that should hurt me this much. Something that should make me cry, like it did when I was younger. My tears blur my vision, as I run back to my apartment building. I press the button in the elevator and get out on Henry’s floor. I am hiccuping by the time I knock on his door. It takes a while before he opens it, but when he does, he gets in immediate worry mode. ‘Oh no, Becky, what happened?’

‘I ran into my family,’ I whimper, before launching myself in his strong and protective arms.

‘You’re shaking,’ he notes, as he pulls me against his chest. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’

‘They hurt me,’ I sob.

He pulls me inside his house and guides me to his couch. He sits down and I don’t waste a second. I sit on his thighs, my legs on his right. I curl up against his broad chest, nuzzling my face in his neck, while he wraps his arms around me. ‘What happened, baby?’

I cough as I try to tell what happened in the store and when I pull back, I notice through my tears, that he understands. ‘I’m so sorry this happened to you,’ he says, as he strokes through my hair.

‘It’s true though,’ mumble. ‘I do whore myself out for money.’

‘That’s not true,’ he says.

‘No wonder they don’t like me. I am a horrible child. No parent would ever want me.’

‘That’s not true,’ he says again. ‘Don’t allow their words and actions to have this effect on you.’ He shakes his head. ‘You don’t deserve that. Never.’

✤ ✤ ✤

Henry has been spoiling me the remainder of the day, while I sit on his windowsill, sip tea and simply be sad. It’s been awhile since I felt like this. When my parents disowned me, I remember drinking my sorrow away with the wine I stole from the store. Now I don’t drink them away, now—like a real adult—I talk about it. Henry listens when I want him to, my friends answer my texts. It’s said that I should feel better now, when you get it off your chest.

I don’t feel better.

Henry places his shirt and sweatpants folded on his bed. ‘I’ll close off and be right here, okay?’ he says.

I nod, as I change into his clothes. I get underneath the covers and wait for him to join me. He walks in with a soft smile, in adorable flannel pants and a simple black shirt. He slides in next to me. ‘Come here, baby,’ he says in a soft tone. It only takes that for me to curl up against his large frame. He wraps his arms around me and I let out a deep sigh.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

‘Don’t be. You did nothing wrong today.’

I place my chin on his chest. ‘You didn’t sign up for this.’

‘I didn’t,’ he says, ‘but I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.’

##  _January 7th 8 a.m._

When I wake up after a dreamless night, I don’t feel the warmth of Henry anymore, like I did the entire night. He was warm and protective. All the things I needed last night. I hear him walking in. He smiles and has a tray in his hand.

Is he bringing me breakfast in bed? He places the tray on his nightstand and I sit up straight, rubbing my eyes. ‘What’s this?’ I ask him.

‘I made you a little something,’ he says. ‘Allow me, please.’ He gets the bed, as he sits behind me. His strong legs caging in mine and he gently pulls me back, so I’m leaning against his broad chest. Henry grabs the tray and places it on my lap, before casually wrapping one arm around my waist. ‘Thank you,’ I say.

‘Of course, I figured you needed it,’ he says, a smile noticeable in his voice. ‘Open your mouth,’ he whispers, bringing a strawberry near my lips. This feels so domestic, almost like he doesn’t pay me to be around him.

_Almost like I’m not whoring myself out for money._

His hand toys with the bottom of his sweatshirt on me and he pulls it up, his warm palm on my stomach. ‘Is this okay with you?’

My cheeks heat up and simply nod. ‘Yes,’ I whisper, before I place my hand on his. With my other hand, I grab the spoon and take a bite of the yoghurt with maple syrup and raspberries. I bring it to my lips and take a bite. ‘Why are you doing this?’ I ask him.

‘You don’t feel too good,’ Henry says. ‘So I make it better. At least, I’m trying.’

‘You are succeeding,’ I chuckle. ‘It’s delicious. I hate you for it.’

He smiles. ‘You don’t hate me.’

I eat my breakfast in silence, as Henry plays with my hair, twirling the strands around his fingers. Once I finished it all, he places the tray back on the nightstand. I turn around in his arms and place my head on his chest. ‘Are you close with your family?’ I ask him, as I draw circles on his bicep.

‘I am not.’

‘Do you have siblings?’

‘No.’

‘How are you surviving without your parents?’

Henry lets out a sigh. ‘By acting like nothing happened,’ he says, as his hand goes underneath my sweater again, his heavy hand on my back. ‘By acting like they don’t exist.’

‘That can’t be healthy,’ I say. ‘Does it affect you?’

He nods. ‘It always does.’

‘But how do you manage?’

‘By forgetting,’ Henry says. ‘I know, not very healthy.’

I shake my head, as I turn in his arms. I rest my underarm on his chest, as I look in his beautiful light blue orbs. ‘I thought I was okay,’ I say. ‘But I’m not.’

Henry nods. ‘Tell me how you are now.’

‘I don’t know. Numb, I guess. They totally went off in a public place. Imagine what they’d do in a private setting.’

‘What did they do in a private setting?’ he asks.

‘They’d yell,’ I say, going back to my childhood memories. ‘They’d make my life miserable. All of them. My sister would throw away my stuff, my brother would humiliate me in school and mom would continue the humiliation at home, while dad was on the side, watching it all. I don’t even know why they’d bother trying with me in the first place, when it’s obvious they always regretted having me. I was’t like my brother, bright, intelligent and technically gifted. I wasn’t like my sister, eloquent, in the debate club and doing all this extra curricular activities. I was just me, stupid, useless and too dumb for anything.’

‘But you are perfect the way you are,’ Henry says. ‘It’s your parents’ fault they missed out on all the amazing things you have to offer. They are your parents, they should’ve given you a chance, they should’ve taken the time to get to know you.’

‘They never did. I was the walking disappointment of the family.’

He places his hand on my cheek. ‘You are not a disappointment. You know, Becky, there are too many things that are amazing about you. You are kind, you are sweet and you are so thoughtful. I’ve been around a lot of people,’ he says, ‘but no one is like you. No one is you.’

I am confused. ‘What?’ I say.

‘You are wonderful,’ he says. ‘And I hate your parents.’

I chuckle. ‘Yeah, you and me both.’ I tilt my head. ‘You know, Henry, the woman who will end up with you, is gonna be one lucky lady,’ I say.

He chuckles. ‘If I’ll ever meet her.’

‘You will,’ I say. ‘There’s someone waiting for you. Someone so special. And if you’re gracing the world with a kid one day, they will be so lucky too.’

I hear my phone vibrate on the nightstand and Henry hands it to me. I check the screen and my eyes widen. ‘Shit,’ I say, ‘I was supposed to have breakfast with Viola and Genevieve.’ I smile at him and say: ‘I gotta get ready.’

##  _January 25th 11 a.m._

I want to be happy, I really do. Especially because I have every reason to be happy. To be grateful and enjoy my life. There are very little things for me to worry about. It’s just that I continue getting inside my head, filling my thoughts with worries and doubts.

I stare at my screen, checking the calling history for these passed two weeks. I’ve been calling Henry at least once a day since the unfortunate events of me running into my family at the grocery store and sometimes even a few times a day. Even when we see each other before and after work, we still call.

Am I obsessed with him?

Since three days I haven’t called him nor answered his calls. If I’m being honest, I’m kinda avoiding him. I don’t want him to think I need him that much.

When I’m not at work (where I avoid Henry like the plague), I clean up my own place, write a little on my book and watch some tv. I look at my screen once again and let out a sigh when I see I have received no texts from him in these days.

_See, I was bothering him._

I am treating our whatever we have as a therapy session. The only reason I called him this much, was to get my mind focused on something else. Always ending every call with question: ‘But do you still want to be my sugar daddy?’

He must be so annoyed.

I hear a few knocks on my door and I get up with a groan. I open the door, only to discover Henry leaning against the doorframe.

‘Henry,’ I say. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Do I need to be worried?’ he asks. ‘You haven’t answered any of my calls and I feel that at work you’ve been avoiding me.’ He runs his fingers through his hair and adds: ‘Do you need space?’

I sigh. Of course he is being thoughtful about it. ‘I didn’t want to bother you.’

He frowns. ‘You could never bother me. Baby, are you okay?’

‘No,’ I whisper. ‘My brain is not cooperating and while my life is perfect and everything I’ve ever wanted… I just don’t know anymore, Henry. I don’t know what I feel, what I should feel.’

Henry nods. ‘This is about what happened with you and your family, right?’

Tears burn in my eyes and I try to stop them. Emphasis on try. I bury my face in my hands, as I let out a sob.

‘Oh, darling,’ he says, pulling me into a tight hug. ‘It’s okay.’

‘It’s not okay,’ I cry. ‘I don’t even know what is wrong with me.’

Henry closes the door behind us and carefully walks me to the couch. He sits down and pulls me close as I cry.

I don’t even know why I’m wailing like this.

‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ he says. ‘I think this is about what your family said to you and now you believe them. You believe it when they said you are whoring yourself out by this arrangement we have.’

‘But isn’t it exactly what I’m doing?’

He shakes his head. ‘You and I are in a business agreement,’ he says. ‘I needed company, you needed money. It’s not that I found you at your lowest point, while you were intoxicated, lured you into my penthouse and am currently in the process of grooming you. We both signed up, individually, on a website, met each other and agreed on what we have now.’ His fingers graze over my arm. ‘It’s just that that I feel like you and I formed a friendship and we get close.’

‘Mhm.’

‘But tell me this, baby, how is that _whoring_ yourself out? Where did you even pick up that phrase?’

‘My sister came up with it.’ I nearly pull out my hair as I sit up straight. All my thoughts that were scattered around, are put back into place. ‘Oh shit,’ I say as I realize how I was overreacting, ‘you are totally right. I am not whoring myself out.’

‘See,’ Henry says, while he watches me pace around the living room.

‘I cannot believe this happened to me again. Allowing my stupid family’s words to get to me and screw me up. I felt great these passed few months. Okay, not great all the time, but I felt so good and then they came in and fucked me up again. I should’ve totally seen this coming.’ I stop pacing and smile at him. ‘Henry, I owe you,’ I say, causing him to shake his head. ‘I’m so sorry for worrying you and ignoring you and being a stupid bitch.’

He shakes his head. ‘Don’t apologize, I get it.’ He pushes himself off the couch and places his hands on my shoulders. ‘You did worry me and did ignore me, but I forgive you. However, what I can’t forgive is that you called yourself a stupid bitch. You’re not, okay?’

‘Maybe a little,’ I say.

‘You are not a stupid bitch,’ Henry tells me sternly. ‘Are we good again?’

I roll my eyes with a chuckle. ‘We were always good,’ I say to him. ‘Thank you, Henry, for being there for me.’

‘Always, baby.’


End file.
